Gedragon of Candlekeep, Vol 1
by Harry Spex
Summary: The Life and Times of one Gedragon of Candlekeep, a Man of Wealth and Taste: Being the adventures of a young man of a dubious divine birth, whose principal interests are magic, staying alive and finding out why powerful people want him dead
1. Prologue

The Life and Times of one Gedragon of Candlekeep, a Man of Wealth and Taste

Volume 1: The Son of Two Fathers

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'Surely no mere mortal who has at all gone down into himself will ever pretend that his slightest thought or act solely originates in his own defined identity.'

-Herman Melville

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'Where love rules, there is no will to power, and where power predominates, love is lacking. The one is the shadow of the other.'

-Carl Jung

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'For I am a weed, Flung from the rock, on Ocean's foam, to sail, Where'er the surge may sweep, the tempest's breath prevail.'

-Lord Byron (Childe Harold)

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'(Roxanne): "There are two of you. One that kills and one that loves." '

-Apocalypse, Now

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'Children begin by loving their parents. After a time they judge them. Rarely, if ever, do they forgive them.'

-Oscar Wilde

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Prologue

"So. We are all here Gorion, now will you tell us what's the occasion?"

The middle aged man in white robes glanced towards the anxious looking young woman who had asked the question and smiled. He gave her no other immediate reply. Gorion was a tall and well built man of about forty. He had black hair and icy, light blue eyes which gave him an aura of cool and detached intellect. When he was angered, he could often stop a would be attacker on his tracks with a scornful, piercing look. Presently however, his eyes twinkled with affection and warmth as he regarded the striking brunette who was nervously fidgeting with one of her braids.

The small group of friends had gathered in a quiet tavern, in the town of Daggerford which was located in the wild and dangerous part of the Realms known as the Savage Frontier. It was the last day of the Year of the Morningstar, 1350 by Dale reckoning and snow was gently falling outside. Gorion and his companions had chosen a table in a dark and shadowed corner, preferring to meet discreetly. The tavern was otherwise nearly empty and the sky was darkening outside. Momentarily lost in thought, Gorion listened to the happy sounds of children playing outside in the snow.

"Gorion...?"

This time it was another of his companions, a handsome man wearing expensive silk clothing under his worn traveling cloak and absentmindedly strumming a lute of elven design. The melody was familiar, one the man had often played with more feeling during their travels. Gorion started to answer, but closed his mouth abruptly and turned around when he heard a noise behind him. It was the barmaid.

"I'm sorry sirs and ma'ams, but I took the liberty of warming some milk for the..." she began in an earnest, friendly manner before seeing the grim faces surrounding Gorion.

"Thank you kindly, my dear girl." he smiled at the barmaid and gave her a silver piece.

"Thank ye kindly, master. The Lady's blessing over ye!" the girl beamed back and retreated with a curtsey.

Gorion turned back towards the gathering.

"Hand him to me, Dermin" he asked the young man who had stopped strumming his instrument.

Dermin handed him a bundle of clothing from beside him, which the wizard (for that's what Gorion was) took delicately.

"Hello Ged." he said to the baby, which had just woken up.

"I didn't realize the young one had a name already." the young woman remarked, drawing a smirk from Dermin and a gentle smile from another, red headed man who was seated next to her.

"It's a f-f-fine enough name, m-my dear." the second man said with a slight stutter, drawing amused glances from all others except the woman. He blushed beet red at showing his nervousness.

"Hmph. Ged?" the woman scowled, but her eyes twinkled with obvious affection as she shot a quick glance towards the second man, whose face was now as red as his hair. Gently, she took his hand and gave it a slight squeeze.

"Short for Gedragon, my... brother." Gorion replied her, now feeding the infant with the milk the girl had brought.

"Your broth-? Gorion, I didn't know you had a brother." a third person joined the conversation, his voice gruff with age. He wore a brown cloak and kept to the shadows.

"He is no longer among us, but I shall always remember him. As will many who honor his memory with harp song."

The latter part drew knowing glances from the red haired man and the young woman. Dermin showed no visible reaction. The others stayed in the shadows.

"Gorion, I... WE must know what you intend to do! I heard what happened with... how you..." the woman demanded, simultaneously highly agitated and at a loss for words.

"Yes, my friend. Tell us what thou intendest." spoke yet another voice, this one old as well but tinged with hidden humor.

Gorion smiled and looked at the deepest shadows from where two glittering eyes stared back like pieces of flint.

"You already know what I'm planning, old friend. You've always read me like a book." He grinned, seeing an answering wink from the shadows.

"Mayhaps so, but our younger friends here, who were NOT part of thine recent ordeal wish to know why thou hast decided to give up the adventuring life. I suppose thou ought to tell them." This drew a gasp from the red haired man and the young woman.

"Gorion, you can't. You CAN'T!" the woman hissed, her beautiful features darkening and her eyes wide with anxiety.

"I'm sorry my dear, but this is something I must do. I've seen too much death. Too many useless sacrifices, too much..." he remarked, at first to her and then almost to himself. Now he had everyone's attention, except the owner of the twinkling eyes and the sarcastic voice who already knew everything and was concentrating on smoking his foul smelling pipe.

"It's about her. Isn't it? It's about that-" the woman began, but quieted down when Dermin shot a warning glance at her and shook his head slightly.

"This boy... I have taken him as my own to raise." Gorion's words had a note of finality and impending doom in them and his audience was enraptured, waiting for him to continue.

"His mother is... dead. His father is... For all practical purposes, I am his father now. Those of you who know what is behind my decision know the gravity of what I'm about to do. Those of you who don't..." here he glanced at the young woman and the red headed man.

"Please don't take it as a slight. I love you all dearly, but I think I might just love this child ever so slightly more. What he has gone through... More than anything, he deserves a good home and a decent, loving parent to take care of him."

Dermin smirked and opened his mouth to make a comment but thought better of it and took a sip from his mug instead.

"I am tired and old, unhealed wounds cause me much pain. Perhaps this gentler undertaking will do me some good. Perhaps not. But I WILL retire."

Gorion glanced at each of his companions. He saw understanding and acceptance on the faces of his older friends, indifference on Dermin's and puzzlement and hurt on the faces of the young woman and the (equally young) red headed man.

"Don't worry, you two." he said to them, with a smile. "For you, the adventure is only beginning."

"You have proven yourselves, but you are young yet. Someday you will understand my decision."

The red headed man smiled at him but his female companion still looked unhappy. Gorion knew what ate at her.

"I didn't leave you out of the last mission and all of this secrecy for no good reason or because I didn't trust you or value you." he said, looking at her in the eyes. She held his gaze for a moment, before blushing and lowering her head.

"I did it because it would have killed you." Gorion continued, his voice even but tinged with deep emotion.

"I love both of you so very much, you are two of my dearest friends." he continued, oblivious to seeing Dermin roll his eyes and scowl in contempt. The pipe smoker didn't miss this, however, and his sharp eyes narrowed at the sight.

"You are young, however. Those who harp don't use their fledglings like the Black Network or the church of Bane, throwing them away in useless attempts at assassinating Elminster the Sage or the King of Cormyr." this comment drew amused titters from the crowd and a grunt from the pipe smoking gentleman.

"No. We need you, and it would have been worse than murder to take you with us on that horrid task. As you know Delshera, Cirriq and dear, sweet Bulda perished there. I have taught you all I can and I believe you will be of great assistance to Dermin here," he pointed to the now genially grinning man in question, "wherever he may take you. As you know he is quite the hellraiser and will provide you both with plenty of adventure. I know he values you both. After all, I have him to thank for the pleasure of knowing you in the first place."

The mention of their fallen comrades seemed to have saddened the red haired man and the woman both, but while the man had already accepted Gorion's decision, the woman still looked rebellious.

"I don't like this. But..." she drew a deep breath, "It seems I have no choice." she remarked, her eyes downcast. "If you ever need us, ever, just send a word and I promise you we will spare no expense to get to you. I owe you my life and that's not a debt I will forget. EVER!" she finished, her voice thick with emotion.

Gorion nodded at her, sighed and focused his attention towards the baby once again. The infant had finished feeding and was making pleased, gurgling sounds. The child had deep blue, almost violet eyes. "Her eyes!" he realized with a jolt and blinked twice in rapid succession. He felt a tear trickle down his cheek.

One by one, his companions excused themselves from the table and left to their lodgings until only the old man smoking his pipe was left.

"What is thine intended destination, my friend? Thou will have to be careful. In fact, thou will have to look over thine shoulder for the rest of thy life, or at least as long as this here young man remains in thy care. 'Gedragon' indeed!" he harrumphed.

"I had to honor her memory somehow." Gorion answered evenly, not looking at his companion.

"Verily, but doth her memory need honoring, I wonder?" his companion remarked, almost to himself as her drew back to the shadows, drawing a long puff from his pipe.

"As to where I intend to go, I don't know yet. South, perhaps. Waterdeep is too busy with intrigue. Perhaps somewhere in the vicinity of Baldur's Gate?" Gorion replied.

"Thou dost understand that those who harp will stay out of this affair?" The older man replied, his eyes narrowing.

Gorion met his gaze without wavering and nodded.

"I understand. It IS a foolish endeavour I grant you, but I believe everyone should have a chance for a decent retirement. Or upbringing." he said to the older man, who had put out his pipe and shakily risen to leave.

"I wish thee well then, Gorion my friend. And thou also, young Gedragon. If thou amountest up to half the good thine adopted father did so far in 'is life, thy wilt have proven 'im right."

The old man walked out into to night and vanished into the swirling snow. Gorion sat there for a long time by himself, gently rocking the sleeping baby Ged and thinking of the dark past and the uncertain future.


	2. I: Moving in

Chapter 1 -:o Moving in o:-

"Why was that man so angry, father?"

Gorion glanced at the boy's anxious face and smiled.

"He is usually angry about something, this time it was because of us. Don't worry Ged, we can stay here. But I want you to remember that master Ulraunt is a very important man, so you had best behave yourself when he's around."

Ged did his best to keep up with Gorion, who kept a brisk stride despite his advancing age. They had arrived to the great library fortress of Candlekeep on the eve of his ninth birthday. For as long as the boy could remember they had been on the move, sometimes staying a week in one city, sometimes a couple of months in another. But this time Gorion had promised him they would settle down permanently. All around him he saw robed monks and platemail clad watchers carrying staves and swords, a few visiting noblemen and their wives and servants here and there.

The boy's shoulders sagged.

He had been looking forward to finally making some friends but it looked like they had chosen to make their home in an armed fortress full of deadly serious people.

Gorion entered a building with a sign above the door and motioned for him to keep up.

"C-A-N-D-L-E-K-double E-P I-N-N" Ged spelled out in his mind. Gorion had taught him to read and write common, which he had learned quite easily.

He ran after his adoptive father and entered the small common room. It was smoky inside and several merchants were noisily drunk in the corner table. Gorion was greeting the innkeeper, a middle aged paunchy man with jovial features and a balding head. It looked like the two knew each other already. They were talking quite jovially about something and it looked like it might take a while.

Ged wandered back outside where the hot Flamerule sun made it almost intolerable to stay out of the shadows.

Candlekeep was quiet for a fortress, but for a moment he thought he had imagined the sound amidst the scream of the sea birds, the various shouts of watchers and the quiet chatter of the passing monks. Then he heard it again.

"Psst! Over here!"

It was a loud whisper, coming from behind the inn.

One of the things Gorion had always drilled into him was to never talk or go with any strangers. "But surely," the boy reasoned, "he didn't mean I should be careful of my new neighbors."

He walked into the shadowed alley and saw a young wisp of a girl, hiding in a barrel. She had a great tangled mane of bright red hair and two huge brown eyes.

"Who are you? I've never seen the likes of you around here, I haven't!" she demanded in a loud whisper.

"My name's Ged, and I'm here with my father." the boy replied. "What are you doing in that barrel?" he asked her.

"Hiding from ol' Puffguts, he's a right slaver he is! Making me turn beds and wash crockery all day long! 'e must have some Calishite blood in 'im!" she hissed and climbed out of the barrel quite dextrously like a small monkey.

"Puff... guts?" Ged asked, wondering who she meant.

"Yea, ol' Puffguts Winthrop. The innkeeper! He's my guardian here and really a slavedriver of an employer. You see, 'e keeps me working hard in 'is inn so I can't get up to any mischief. Can you imagine?" she pouted, then brightened visibly as another thought hit her.

"Ged wazzit? What a funny name!" she wondered, scratching her tangled hair as if greatly puzzled.

"I'm Imoen and I'm already twelve!" she then declared with a note of challenge in her voice, thumping her tiny chest with an equally tiny fist.

Ged looked at the little tomboy, thinking she looked young enough to be about six or seven.

"Don't believe me do ya? Ask anyone, ask Dreppin!" she continued.

"Who's Dreppin?" Ged inquired.

"My best friend. My only friend and the smartest boy who ever lived!" she declared, with a small giggle as if thinking of some private little joke.

"Say, you've got funny eyes Ged!" she quipped next, quite innocently.

Ged blushed angrily. She had to have gone and noticed his cursed eyes! They were the worst part of himself he could think of, shifting color depending on the light or his mood. Sometimes they were deep blue, sometimes brilliantly violet. And the worst thing was that every woman thought they made him adorable and had to audibly coo and pester him about the damn things!

Which of course caused great amusement in any man who happened to be around.

"Why did ya turn red like that? Say, yer a funny kid, ya are! Are you going to stay here? I'd like th-..." she continue before seeing his angry scowl.

"Where are ya going?" she called out after him as he turned on his heels and walked away angry and embarrassed.

"I've got to see my father. Good bye!" he snarled back at her.

"See ya again Ged!" he heard her giggle.

"And don't tell Puffguts I'm hiding out here, won't ya?" her voice trailed after him as he stepped out of the shadowy alley back in to the sunlit courtyard.

"There you are Ged!" Gorion stepped out of the inn with a red robed man and a middle aged lady.

"I want to meet two of my dear friends, master Tethtoril and lady Phlydia." Ged bowed at each as he had been taught, hoping the lady wouldn't look in to his eyes and embarrass him in front of Tethtoril, whom immediatly liked seeing the old man's noble features and kindly smile.

"Oh what a charming young man! And so well behaved! He does credit to you, Gorion." Phlydia exclaimed clasping her hands in delight. Tethtoril smiled and crouched with some difficulty to look at Ged face to face.

"Yes, I can see you are your mother's son, at least..." he smiled absentmindedly at the boy and tapped him on the cheek as he rose up again and faced Gorion.

"If anyone can do it, it's you my friend. Your new vocation will surely help since our reborn goddess looks favorably upon such as he."

Ged knew part of what Tethtoril was speaking of. His father had become a priest of the reborn goddess of magic, Mystra (or Midnight as some called her after the mortal wizardess she had been). He was still a wizard of formidable powers but Ged had seldom seen him use his spells. The boy knew Gorion had been an adventurer who had given up the traveling life when he had taken him into his care. He also knew Gorion wasn't his father by the right of blood.

The wizard-priest hadn't really told him anything about his real parents, only that he was an orphan who had come into his care. Ged knew he had the eyes of his mother and that he quite resembled her, having delicate features and soft brown hair. He also guessed that Gorion had once known her quite well. Of his father, Gorion hadn't told him a thing.

"Phlydia..." there was a prompting note in Gorion's voice.

"Oh! Of course. Come, Ged. Let me show you around." the woman took his arm and led him towards the southern part of the fortress. As they walked away from the inn, Ged could feel the eyes of his adoptive father and Tethtoril follow him.

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Phlydia proved to be a rather poor guide, being seemingly absentminded to the point of being amnesiac. After she had shown him the shrine of Oghma three times he excused himself politely and told her he was tired from the travelling and was going to get a nap in the rooms Gorion had obtained for them from the keep.

Phlydia waved him goodbye and wandered off. Ged was in fact feeling a little tired but decided to take a drink first. He headed to the well and lowered the bucket. As he was pulling it back up, he heard shouting noises. Looking over his shoulder, he saw a huge youth take a verbal lashing from a dark haired dwarf dressed in blue. The dwarf was apparently furious and gestured towards a what looked like a storage as he was yelling obscenities at the lad. After seemingly deciding the boy had had enough, the dwarf turned on his heels and stomped off.

Having finished his drink, Ged walked over to the sullen lad who was observing his approach.

"Hullo there mate! Who are ye?" the young giant quipped in a friendly, if slightly apprehensive tone.

"My name is Ged, son of Gorion the Sage. Who are you?" Ged answered, observing the other boy.

The lad was huge for his age, which Ged judged to be between nine and ten years of age. He had friendly, if not quite intelligent features. Dirty blonde thatch of hair, brown eyes and a broad, freckled face.

"I'm Dreppin, son of Dripp the, uh... Younger!" he exclaimed, imitating Ged's polite manner and not quite pulling it off.

Ged remembered Imoen's description and realized she must have been joking. Though Dreppin looked quite amiable, he didn't seem like a paragon of wit or learning.

"I'm the stableboy here. Your pa a noble or something? If'n you got horseys or other beasts, bring 'em over n' I'll take good care of 'em."

"No, we have no animals. In fact, we are going to settle down in this fortress, I think. Pleased to meet you Dreppin." Ged answered with a smile, hoping to make friends with the boy.

Dreppin's face brightened upon hearing this.

"You are? Now that's good to hear! There ain't been no other boys here unless they were some snotty nobles or something. Can't rightly play with their ilk, one can't! T'will be good to have a friend other than that GIRL Imoen!" he exclaimed with a grin, then sobering up as another thought hit him.

"That is, we're gonna be friends, aren't we? I sure hope so, yessir I do!" he asked Ged anxiously.

"Of course! Tell me one thing though." Ged answered, setting the young giant visibly at ease.

"How old is she? She said she was twelve but I don't believe her." he continued, seeing his suspicion confirmed as Dreppin's face eased in a wide grin. Ged noticed that his new friend was missing several teeth.

"She told ya that, did she? No she ain't twelve! She's seven! Did she also tell her that her dad's king Azoun of Cormyr? She fooled me into believing that too, once! No, she's an orphan all right, the silly little brat. But Imoen's all right... for a girl. And she's real smart too!" he told Ged.

"Did ya know she can actually write and read?" Dreppin almost whispered, seemingly in awe.

"Uh, no I didn't..." the boy answered.

"How about I show you around?" Dreppin offered.

"Gladly, but first tell me who that dwarf was and why he was yelling at you like that?" Ged answered, looking to the direction the dwarf had stormed off.

"Oh you mean Reevor. He's supposed to be taking care of the warehouses and the storage there, but he's always bullying me or even Imoen into doing his own bloody chores. Watch out if he catches you lazing off or just doing nothing, he'll send you to work sooner than you can blink!" Dreppin answered, leading Ged to the gates.

Dreppin proved to be a much better guide than Phlydia, showing Ged around the courtyard and inside the buildings. Having met two people of his own age, Ged was feeling much more at ease than he had at first seeing his new home. Perhaps he would like it here after all.


	3. II: Promise of the future

Chapter 2 -:o Promise of the future o:-

"I would like to become a great and powerful wizard, just like you father!"

Ged's declaration seemed to please Gorion, but inside he felt a jolt of sudden fear. They were standing on the ramparts of Candlekeep, watching the sun set in to the Sea of Swords and turn it red. The mournful cries of sea birds and the mighty crashing of waves were the only sounds that could be heard, the fortress was quite silent after eight o' clock.

"Would you now? And why is that?" he inquired his adopted son, stroking his rapidly whitening beard.

Ged was already twelve years of age. Besides doing his chores at the fortress, he had proven to be a able assistant to the amnesiac wizardess Phlydia, the busy priest Tethtoril, the various priests of Oghma and other monks not to mention Gorion himself. The boy had a good head for figures and a great memory (especially helpful for Phlydia). He was also naturally curious and imaginative.

"I want to create beautiful things for myself and for others!" the boy exclaimed with flourish.

"Perhaps you should became an artisan or a painter? That way you can create beauty for all your heart desires." Gorion retorted.

"I also want to help other people and fight wickedness and foul all those foul Zhents you've told about in your stories!" Ged answered him, making several theatrical casting gestures and launched his imaginary FireBall over the walls in to the sea.

"Become a warrior then, or even a paladin. Better yet, join a priesthood and you'll be able to serve some great god or goddess and heal as well as fight." Gorion smiled back at the boy.

"I want to travel to wonderful new places and see and experience all those things you've mentioned! The Savage Frontier, Calimshan and even the Underdark. Perhaps I will visit the other planes of existence, once I'm as good as you are..." the boy pressed on, undaunted.

"Well, become a traveling bard or a sailor." Gorion suggested.

"I want to do all of that, by myself! I want to create without tools, help people without being a servant of any god, fight any evil without a sword, travel where ever I want without a horse or a ship!" the boy shot back, grinning proudly at his own cleverness.

"Very well. I and the others here shall teach you. I am sure you will succeed, but you must know that it will be a hard road for you to travel." Gorion told the boy, who gave a cheer and a made a small jumping dance of victory at his words. Gorion hid his fond smile behind his hand.

"You must study countless hours before even the simplest Cantrip becomes understandable to you. It will be frustrating and at times, even dull. You will be cooped up with foul smells and unpleasantness while Imoen and Dreppin cavort outside, free as birds."

"I don't care! I will have plenty of time to play with them after my studies. Won't I?" the boy answered, though a bit of anxiety had crept in his voice.

"We shall see!" Gorion said a bit more ominously than he had meant, even though he could see Ged was currently flying high on his own imaginations on what the life of a wizard was.

They shared a moment of silence, watching as the sun dipped lower and lower, just listening at the sounds of the sea and breathing the fresh, salty breeze.

"Father... Gorion?"

Gorion closed his eyes, and swallowed the sudden bad taste in his mouth. It was coming, once again. There was only one question the boy ever asked like that. He turned to face his adopted son.

"Will you... will you now tell me of my father?" Ged asked him in a small voice, not meeting his eyes. All his previous mirth had seemingly vanished into thin air.

The question stung Gorion. It stung him because he loved the boy and hated to cause him pain. But he couldn't tell him what he knew, not now. Not while he was so young and vulnerable.

"Ged... Oh my son. I cannot." he answered the boy, trying to keep his voice steady.

A tear trickled down the boy's cheek. He reached his hand to wipe it off, but the boy grasped it with both of his small hands and looked him in the eyes his mouth trembling.

"Why won't you tell me?" he pleaded.

"Why not? Please, I-" then his voice gave away and he cried bitterly. Gorion held him close and comforted him.

As the boy's crying slowly subsided, Gorion let him from his embrace and moved to face the sea once more. It was starting to get dark and the birds had all but quieted down.

"Father?"

"Yes, Ged?" Gorion answered without turning.

"Will you finish the story you began today?"

Gorion smiled, it looked like the episode had passed. For a time.

"Certainly, remind me where it was we last were? Had Bulda already drunk that potion?"

"You and Dermin had fooled that Dragon into thinking that the ruby ring Bulda had stolen from it was hidden in that pile of rocks!" Ged answered him eagerly. He and his two friends loved Gorion's stories, and this was shaping out to be one of the very best.

Gorion smiled in fond memory.

"Oh yes! Well, this dragon was, I think, quite capable of killing us all so we had to use a little cleverness in tricking it. Bulda, being a halfling, had a passion for good food like I've told you. Every halfling has his different tastes and Bulda was no exception: She loved-"

"Spices! I remember, exotic spices!" Ged blurted out, excited.

"Yes, Dear Bulda loved hot spices and she had emptied a pouch of her hottest Chultan peppers on that pile like we had agreed in the short time he had before the wyrm showed up." Gorion smirked, enjoying at seeing Ged so enraptured.

"The arrogant wyrm taunted us as liars and said he didn't smell his ring there and was going to burn us all into a cinder if the ring was not produced quickly. Dermin swore he had placed the trinket there and suggested that the beast take a closer whiff, just to be certain. I was sweating profusely at this time, trying to think of a spell, any spell! Then it hit me. It would depend on whether the dragon took the bait..." he paused for effect.

"Well... Well? Go on father please!" Ged pleaded.

"The dragon peered closer..." Gorion continued, "and took a sniff!" he clapped his hands together triumphantly.

"That horrendous sound of retching and screaming made me deaf temporarily but I stood my ground and waited for the perfect moment. The beast was teetering dangerously close to the edge of the cliff and if he tipped over and fell I would have my chance."

"But dragons have wings..." Ged suggested.

"Yes, and they are quite resistant to magic as well, when they know they are being cast at. I had readied a Hold Monster spell, one that would paralyze the beast and cause it to tumble down the mountainside. Because of the pepper it would be suffering from quite a bit of discomfort and thus much more likely not to resist my magic." Gorion answered and smiled at the boy's amazed expression.

"What happened." Ged asked.

"The dragon teetered closer and closer and I began my casting. Dermin was running away and calling for me to follow but I knew the dragon had to be dealt with, at least temporarily. Otherwise it would hunt us down and that would have been the end of your dad and his merry companions! But the blessed Mother of Magic was with me that day, and my spell went off just as the beast literally sneezed itself off the cliff. My spell worked, and with a terrible crashing the dragon rolled down the mountain. I run to take a quick look and saw the mighty beast in a crumpled heap, bleeding profusely."

"What happened then, did you go and finish it?" Ged asked, his voice full of wonder.

"No, there was no time and as you remember, Cirriq and Wachma were grievously wounded. We had to flee. But we had humiliated that beast and Bulda and Dermin had snatched quite a few valuables from it's hoard." Gorion finished his story.

"You battled a dragon and won! Wait until I tell the others, WOW!"

The boy ran off and Gorion watched him go with a wistful smile. He remembered his friends, those who had fallen on that final, dark task. The one where Ged had come to his care.

He stayed up there, alone, long after the moon had risen and the stars become visible.

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"A dragon! No! What color was it, not a red one by the Lady! Those are the meanest one's of them all!" Imoen gasped.

"It was... A red one!" Ged whispered hoarsely, trying to imitate Gorion's storytelling dramatics.

"Oh no! What did they do then, I bet Gorion or Dermin had a plan! Did Cirriq take his bow, the one only he could draw and shot out it's nasty eyes! Tell me already!" she squealed, her large eyes wide.

"I'll tell you the rest tomorrow, there's a bit to go still and I'm feeling tired." Ged told his friend, stifling a yawn for he really was feeling drained. They were were sitting on the stairs of the keep, where Ged had found Imoen after he had rushed off to tell her Gorion's tale.

Imoen looked ready to argue, but thought better of it when she saw Ged yawn again. They sat for a minute in complete silence.

"Are you really thinking of becoming a mage?" she asked him.

"A wizard, yes." Ged sighed, rising to his feet.

"That's nice I guess, but really too much trouble for my taste! I shall be the best rogue and the most daring cat burglar Faerun has ever seen, when I grow up. I will steal from the rich and the wicked and give to the poor! I'll keep the prettiest jewels and magic trinkets of course. Only a few years more of this mundane dullness and I shall leave." Imoen rambled on, a dreamy look in her eyes.

"You and Dreppin will accompany me, of course. You shall be my wizardly partner in crime and Dreppin will be the valiant warrior he's always dreamed of becoming. We'll visit Waterdeep and Calimshan and-and Kara-Tur, maybe! It will be SUCH fun..."

Ged smiled at her fantasy. He knew that the girl had already developed some decidedly roguish traits, responsible for some of the "disappeared" items that several visiting noblemen had missed. Not that she was greedy, she merely liked the thrill of sneaking into locked places and doing "daring" things. She was always the one who climbed the highest trees or jumped from the steepest cliff into the water below. He himself was more subtle and careful and Dreppin, for all his brute strenght and size was rather timid when the push came to shove.

He was spending more time with Imoen these days than Dreppin, who being rather dimwitted and slow, drew most of the menial tasks and duties Reevor and the other taskmasters could think of. Imoen knew a hundred and one hiding places and Ged, being the son of Gorion was held in higher regard than Dreppin, son of Dripp 'The Younger'. Nevertheless, when the trio managed to be together they were inseparable. Their favorite pastime was re-enacting the varied stories Gorion had told them and assuming the parts. Ged was always Gorion, the wise and powerful wizard. Imoen was sometimes Bulda, the mischievous halfling rogue-warrior or Dermin, the rakish bard. Dreppin loved to think himself as Cirriq, the noble ranger whose simple morals he thought mirrored his own.

He bade his friend good night and entered the keep, where his and Gorion's sleeping quarters were located on the fifth floor.

"Perhaps she's right." he mused to himself.

"Perhaps one day we shall leave our mark on the Realms like Gorion or Drizzt or the Knights of Myth Drannor."

"And perhaps one day," he whispered aloud as he climbed the stairs. "I shall be a powerful wizard and use my powers to find out who my real parents were."

The darkness gave no answer.


	4. III: Playing with fire

Chapter 3 -:o Playing with fire o:-

"Is he all right father? I didn't mean to do it, I mean I just tried to turn his hair bright red, I swear it! Is he-"

"He's all right, the priests are looking after him. I hope you learned a valuable lesson!" Gorion scowled at his teary eyed apprentice.

Ged felt the stone fall from his heart upon hearing that Dreppin wasn't in danger, and wiped his eyes. He and Imoen had intended to play a prank on Dreppin, using Ged's meagre magical skills. It had gone awry, igniting Dreppin's hair into flames instead of making it change color.

Ged felt ashamed and miserable, having knowingly disobeyed Gorion's strict orders on not using his spells while not under his or Tethtoril's supervision. The three years he had been under Gorion's tutelage, he had learned quickly and quite easily just about everything Gorion had taught him.

He had become arrogant and foolish and this was the outcome. Intending to impress Imoen, who had a rather dismissive and uninformed view of magic in his opinion, he had instead caused what he though had been a dangerous accident. In fact the Cantrip he had cast wasn't capable of causing harm and had merely burned off most of Dreppin's hair without causing any damage to his skin. Gorion knew this, but didn't tell Ged thinking instead to use the incident as a chance of showing his adopted child the responsibility that came with being a magic user.

"You see now why I've always told you NOT to use magic without me or Tethtoril being around."

Ged lowered his head and choked back a few tears of shame.

In his heart, Gorion was torn in two directions over his protege's skills. On one hand, Ged was showing amazing talent. He had all the markings of being a magical prodigy. With practice and experience he might become a true archmage. On the other, he was learning a little too easily and surely. Some times the boy seemed to know the answers to the questions before Gorion had asked them, as if someone else was taking part in his education and giving the boy guidance Gorion had no say in.

As he silently pondered these questions in his mind, the boy had wiped off his tears and was looking at him.

"Father... Gorion? Please, tell me-"

Gorion sighed, and shook his head. Perhaps, he couldn't just tell the boy to wait anymore. He had just turned fifteen and deserved to know at least something.

"Shhh." he put a finger to his lips.

"Sit down." he motioned towards a chair in the corner of their small room, which Ged sat on after a moments hesitation.

Gorion sat on his bed himself and took a moment to gather his thoughts.

"I will tell you about your mother."

Ged's eyes perked up at that and his hands curled into anxious fists.

"I will not tell you much, and you must promise to ask me no more until the time comes when you are ready to learn the full truth."

Ged started to speak but Gorion raised his hand to silence him.

"Furthermore, you must promise not to ask anything about your father. I will tell you everything about him too, when the time comes. When the time comes for you to know, not before."

Ged gulped nervously.

"I p-promise." he stammered.

"Good. I am not doing this to punish you. When the time comes, you will understand. You were a special child and will be even more special a man as you grow into adulthood. As of now, you are still a youth, not yet a man."

There was a moment of silence as Gorion once again gathered his thoughts.

Ged could feel the blood race through his veins. He felt feverish with anticipation, yet trying to keep his expectations low as Gorion had warned him to.

"Your mother was a special woman, special in a way unlike you. She looked quite like... No. She looked exactly like you. The same, fine features and those eyes... I see her face in your's everytime I look at you. I was her... We were lovers."

Ged had long suspected this, but knowing for certain was better and he was relieved. Even if Gorion was not his real father he had often hoped his mother had been close to Gorion. It made him feel as a part of family.

"In my youth, I used to travel with her. We became inseparable. She was I think a few years older than me and came from Silverymoon, a legendary city to the north. Your mother served Mystra, as I do now, and yet was closer to her, in a way that I can never be. We were so happy those few years, but then your father... Your real father..." Gorion struggled to find words and his voice trembled with emotion.

"Your real father came between us, you might say. We were separated and were apart for many years. Then I heard... of your birth, and heard that you were in grave danger. I raced to save you, accompanied by my most powerful comrades and succeeded. But I couldn't save your mother." A tear rolled down Gorion's cheek.

Ged watched his adopted father in amazement and terror. He had had no idea there was something like this behind Gorion's reluctance to speak about his true parents. And what about his true father...

After taking a deep breath, Gorion continued. "Three of my companions had given their lives that day. Bulda, Cirriq and Delshera. Yes, the same ones that I have told you about in my stories. I gave up the adventuring life after that and took raising you as my profession.

Gorion didn't speak for a few minutes, and Ged remained silent as well.

Then his adoptive father rose from his chair and smiled.

"Now, I shall demonstrate you the correct way to turn someone's hair red using a Cantrip. I think I know the error you made..."

Ged smiled as he listened Gorion, but his mind was elsewhere. All he could think for the moment was the glimpse of his past and family Gorion had shown him before slamming the door shut again.

"Ged! Are you listening to me?"

"Yes, father. Stress the first syllable and don't over do the finger twirl." the boy answered automatically. He could absorb details of spellcraft from conversations and lecturing almost as naturally and easily as one might take a breath or blink.

"Good... let's continue, shall we?" Gorion said with a smile, not noticing anything amiss.

Ged nodded, this time concentrating more fully.

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"Oh my son how I've missed you so. I and you father both."

Ged smiled, couldn't stop smiling. He was standing in the green fields outside the fortress, which loomed behind him. Somehow it seemed to recede even further, as if he was being drawn toward the figures standing in front of him without walking.

The woman (who was exactly as he had imagined her!) was smiling sweetly, dressed in a beautiful white gown and silver cloak with golden trimmings. Her brown hair billowed freely in the wind. The other figure was as if shadowed and he couldn't make out his(?) features.

Somehow he knew, it was his mother and his father, and they had come to take him away from this stupid fortress where nothing ever happened and all the dull monks made even laughing seem a crime.

"You've come to take me away, haven't you?" he asked anxiously.

The woman (his mother!) smiled sweetly and her eyes (exactly like his own!) shone with warmth and love.

"We have come to take you away from all this mundane foolishness Gedragon, son your father. Your fate awaits and you will accomplish great things. The past is over." her voice said, melodious as a golden harp.

Ged blinked and rubbed his eyes quickly. Had her lips moved? He couldn't be certain, but they must have...

"Yes..." he said, taking a step closer, then glanced back over his shoulder.

"Wait, I must go and tell Gorion!" he remembered suddenly.

"Won't he be surprised to see you mother? Just- Yaugh!" he screamed, feeling something cold grasp his shoulder.

Almost dreading the inevitable, he turned his head and screamed again upon seeing what had him in it's grip.

His mother was a living corpse, maggots crawling in her empty eye sockets and falling to the ground. Her beautiful dress was tattered and spattered with blood. The dark figure stepped forward and took on a horrifying shape. It was a blood red, nightmarish construct of scales, claws, fangs and horns and it laughed cruelly as it towered over him.

"You have no need of Gorion anymore, son. Your true father is here..." it gurgled at him and extended one of it's clawed arms.

Ged screamed and tried to recoil, but the corpse of his mother held him tight.

The horrible appendage took his other arm and he felt intense burning pain in his chest even as the claws sunk in his flesh.

"You cannot escape, Gorion cannot help you, no one can! You belong to me!" the monster laughed, and Ged screamed and screamed...

And woke up screaming, as Gorion was shaking him. He collapsed in a sobbing heap on his adopted father's arms, repeating the same words over and over again:

"Don't let him take me, don't let my father take me..."

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"Does he remember anything?" Tethtoril's voice was grave.

"I don't believe so, thank Mystra." Gorion replied.

"He only knows he had a nightmare and is even embarrassed at waking everyone in the floor with his screaming."

They were sitting in Ulraunt's office, and the owner himself was seated in a third chair, with a not-all-too sympatethic look on his aquiline features.

"I warned you Gorion. I knew that you couldn't help him for all the cleverness and kindness you possess. I knew!" he thundered, ignoring Tethtoril's angry gaze.

"I know you did, and as little as I cared for your blithering meddling back then I care less than half that much today." Gorion answered his accuser, voice even but his light blue eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

Ulraunt's darker eyes flashed with anger but he knew the mettle of his two guests and for all his arrogance and power he chose not to press the point further.

"In a way, the most high Ulraunt is right Gorion, my friend." Tethtoril said. "I imagine now that this has begun it will gradually worsen and culminate in..." he paused.

"You don't know what will happen, old friend. No one does. We shall see if kindness, guidance and stable childhood will be enough to counteract the darkness that... threatens him." Gorion replied sipping a glass of red wine Ulraunt had served them.

"I trust your judgement, Gorion. I always have. With you at his side, Ged will always have a positive force in his life." Tethtoril said, smiling at his friend.

"Bah. The darkness that spawned him will consume him the moment you avert your eyes, mark my words! What's bred to the bone can't be changed with a few kind words and coddling. He'll come to an ignominous end, I've never been so sure of anything in my life." Ulraunt sneered, drawing an angry scowl from Tethtoril but not even a look from Gorion.

The priest-wizard only sighed wearily and rose from his chair. He bowed slightly to both the kind Tethtoril and the most high Ulraunt, Keeper of the Tomes and politely excused himself, leaving his two companions sitting in sullen silence.


	5. IV: Brief encounter

Chapter 4 -:o Brief encounter o:-

The Candlekeep Inn was uncommonly full one late Tarsakh evening. Ged, now seventeen years of age, had grown very handsomely into his features. He was only of medium height and more wiry than muscled, but his face was fine featured and his exotic eyes were almost hypnotic if he got intensely absorbed in something or got excited and shifted to the unusual violet shade he had been so awkward about in his youth.

He was watching his friend Dreppin having an armwrestling contest with a young nobleman who had earlier boasted about his feats to impress the now sixteen year old Imoen, who was herself growing up to become quite the beauty. Her hair had darkened from her youth, and it was now of an almost auburn color. Those rare times that she wore dresses (as she had tonight), she usually went barefoot like a gypsy and let her thick, long hair flow free. The effect was such that she had broken a few hearts among the visiting nobles and merchants already.

Dreppin was winning quite handily, and the crowd yelled encouragement to both Dreppin and his noble opponent. Ged sat in the corner, a sardonic smile playing on his face, sipping a mug of Winthrop's cider and lazily leafing through a book, one concerning dangerous monsters and written by the famous sage Elminster himself. He had finally mastered the Armor spell earlier today. Other than Cantrips and the basic Read Magic and Detect Magic spells, it was the first real combat spell in his arsenal. It was also a Conjuration/Summoning spell, the specialization he had chosen for himself amongst the eight principal schools of magic. He knew that Divinations were now out of his reach because of this choice, but reckoned being able to compensate for the deficiency by being able to summon various creatures and spirits to give him the answers he needed.

Being a Conjurer gave a wizard great power, which Ged was eager to harness as early and as quickly as possible. This summer he would become 18 years of age and considered that a possible moment to... what?

To strike out on his own?

Ged considered that for a moment.

Imoen would love to come with him, he knew without even considering it. She had become quite restless with her 'sedentary' life and had taken to sneaking out of the fortress in various ways. She had now done that thrice and Ulraunt had warned Winthrop that if she did it again, she wouldn't be allowed back inside.

Imoen had merely laughed at "Puffguts" when the increasingly pudgy innkeeper had tried to discipline her. She had told of her visits to Beregost and the Friendly Arm Inn to Ged and Dreppin with great flourish, making it sound as she'd been on some great, Faerun saving adventure.

Nevertheless, her vivid descriptions excited Ged in spite of himself. He could hardly remember what it was like, outside the walls of the keep.

Dreppin had lost any real wish for adventure he had ever possessed.

Ged sighed, and glanced over to the table, where his giant friend was already on the verge of winning.

For all his size and strength, Dreppin was a simple and good natured youth whose pleasure in life came from a mug of ale or a honest day's work. Once he, Imoen and Dreppin had dreamed of becoming adventurers together, now it looked like the nineteen year old stablehand and apprentice blacksmith had given up that dream.

A thunderous cheer and applause told him that his friend had just triumphed. He looked to the table again from his reading and intended to politely cheer and clap, but the shout died in his throat as he saw someone staring at him, standing only a few meters away.

The stranger, covered from head to toe in the brown robes of a Candlekeep reader, immediatly turned away and started towards the exit. He was a veritable giant, the tallest man Ged had ever seen and his shoulders were broader than Dreppin's, broader by half. And had it been only Ged's imagination, or had a sudden flash of fire, or something very much like it come from under the hood which the huge stranger covered his head with.

"Ha! The mighty Dreppin wins again!" Ged heard Imoen laugh. "Is there any man here with courage or girth enough to take 'im on? I'll kiss any man who can wins against good ol' Drep here!"

The humiliated noble, rubbing his sore arm, heard Imoen's boast and grabbed the robed strangers shoulder. The noble's retinue, trailing behind him, quickly surrounded the imposing, silent giant.

"Come now, my good monk... eh, that is, if you are monk...?" he dandy inquired, but received no other reply than a quiet gaze from beneath the hood.

"Test your strength against this peasant and I'll... If you win I'll give you five gold pieces! How does that sound, hmm?" the noble tried again, this time joined by the crowd which roared in approval.

Again Ged thought he could see something, like a fierce glow, flash quickly beneath hood.

The quiet giant hesitated for a moment, then quickly crossed to where Dreppin was seated and sat down. The chair creaked ominuosly beneath the stranger's bulk. The crowd grew silent in anticipation and Ged saw beads of sweat gather on his hapless friend's brow as Dreppin regarded the silent giant.

The huge man in monk's robes extended a huge, dark skinned hand and removed the glove he had worn. Dreppin clasped his hand and the contest was on. Ged could only look in amazement as he saw his friend exert all of his considerable brawn in trying to bend the strangers arm, to no avail.

The silent man turned his head and looked directly at Ged. This time Ged clearly saw two yellowish points glow furiously inside the depths of the hood, right where the stranger's eyes would have been. The silent giant held his gaze for a fleeting moment, then turned back to the red faced Dreppin and almost contemptously slammed Dreppin's hand down so hard, that for a moment it looked like the table might split and crack. Dreppin gasped in pain, the crowd was stunned and the nobleman smirked, obviously pleased at himself. The silent winner rose up and put his glove back on.

Imoen, not one to be easily startled, walked over and took off the man's hood in an act of shocking frankness. She had to stand on her tiptoes to do that.

The man's face was quite handsome, he was perhaps in his mid twenties, bald and clean shaven. A strange tattoo, like a crown of thorns, adorned his forehead. But his eyes were dark brown and if cold, at least they didn't glow like hellfire.

Ged sighed in relief, thinking his imagination had run wild. He saw Imoen smile and, again standing on her toes, give the silent titan a full kiss on the mouth. The crowd cheered and Ged smiled as he saw the man being actually startled at her deed. Then the silent stranger gave her a thin, frosty smile that wasn't reflected in his eyes and put his hood back on. He stormed to the exit, ignoring the noble who was trying to invite him to his table and pushing his retinue aside as if they were autumn leaves caught in a sudden, strong breeze.

The huge man opened the door and vanished outside, where a thunderstorm was brewing.

"Didya see that?" Ged, jumped at the sound, then glanced at the grinning, flustered girl.

"I gave him a smooch and did he thank me or anything? What a GROUCH! He was kinda cute, though... Wonder who he was..." Imoen had moved to his table and sat down next to him, without him noticing anything. She was getting sneakier by the day.

Dreppin too, accompanied with two of Candlekeep's more amiable watchers, the hard drinking Hull and the easy going Fuller, came to sit in his table, carrying a tray with three full pitchers of ale.

Sighing, Ged put away his book and resigned to watch his friend get drunk. He would have time to go over the Armor's effectiveness against a troll's claws or wolf's fangs tomorrow with Parda. At least the old monk wouldn't try to goad him into a drinking contest.

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"Yes, I know of the man. A scholar interested in the great Alaundo's prophecies I believe. How curious that you should bring him up... Have you talked with him?" Gorion tried to keep his tone nonchalant, but deep inside he was deeply worried at Ged's question.

"No, he didn't say a word to anyone and I haven't seen him since. It's now been what, two weeks? He only came to my mind today when Dreppin falsely tried to claim no one had ever beaten him in arm wrestling. I had meant to ask you about something related to him, but I can't recall what it was, his eyes or that tattoo or something." Ged said in reply, without raising his head as he continued writing on a piece of parchement.

Gorion didn't say anything further and Ged seemed pleased with his initial answer for once. He had his own suspicions about the man in question and had already made several inquiries with his various friends and contacts elsewhere in Faerun.

The old sage was almost certain he knew what the mysterious stranger was all about, even though he hoped against hope to be wrong. In any case, there were certain preparations to be made.

"Ged." he said, and saw the boy raise his head in askance. From Ged's slightly perplexed gaze he saw the boy had already forgotten their short conversation. "Perhaps that is better, for now. Let him have the few final years of peace before it starts..." Gorion thought to himself.

Aloud, he said: "Tomorrow, I want you to report to the Gatewarden and have him teach you the basics of melee combat. Choose a weapon that's easy to learn and has other uses than just combat, a dagger or a staff I'd recommend myself but it's up to you."

Ged looked surprised and irritated. "Can I ask why, father? It will take all day and you promised me to start instructing me in the basics of the Sleep spell. If I start getting daily weapon lessons it will just set me back in my studies."

Gorion smiled sadly and shook his head. "You are young and naive, my boy. Magic will not get you through everything, especially not while you are so young still. It is better to learn to defend yourself just in case... something should happen."

Ged smiled politely and respectfully, but there was a slight note of a whine in his reply. "Yes, I know I am young and have no skill to reserve my energies for but a few spells a day. But still, you could teach me more and faster, I know I can learn. Why, Phlydia said just the other day that I've advanced faster than-"

Gorion made a small movement with his hand and shook his head. The decision was final.

"Yes father." Ged said, lowering his head.

"Can I take Imoen with me?" the boy asked, as if an after thought. "I'm sure she would love a chance to learn some swordfighting or archery, perhaps."

Seeing his adoptive father nod in reply, he once more concentrated on the parchment and forgot all about the rest of the world.

Gorion went to the nearby window and looked outside. He could see over the walls where the road led east where it would link up with Lion's Way and take one south to Beregost and beyond, all the way to Amn or northward to Baldur's Gate and deeper into the Savage Frontier.

There was still plenty of time to prepare, old friends to contact and favors to call. And perhaps he had been mistaken. Perhaps there still was time to further prepare the boy for what would surely follow.

No.

Gorion knew it in his heart, his luck had run out and what he had long feared had come to pass.

Ged's identity had been found out, and by the worst kind of person possible.


	6. V: When the knives come out

Chapter 5 -:o When the knives come out o:-

It was the morning of the first day of Mirtul, 1370 by Dale Reckoning, the Year of The Tankard.

The library fortress of Candlekeep was waking up, and the night watchers were heading to their barracks to sleep while the well rested day shift had already taken their positions. Several visitors were enjoying the famed hospitability of the Candlekeep Inn and it's innkeeper, master Winthrop.

"Imoen!" he bellowed at the top of his lungs, drawing a pained look and a grimace from a hung over nobleman enjoying a very greasy breakfast with his smug looking wife. The young wizard Gedragon, whom everyone called simply Ged was also present, rubbing the his eyes and yawning like his jaw might fall off.

"Where is that damn girl? Imoen... IM-!" he stopped in mid-bellow, seeing the usually winsome redhead descend the stairs with somewhat less than her usual grace, looking like she had just woken up.

"Stop shrieking like that ya bleedin' bugbear! One would think the inn was on fire or something!"

"Oh good, quick girl, Hildy was sick this morning, take over her duties until I tell you otherwise! Hurry, into the kitchen you go!" he shouted, then turning back towards Ged who was standing before the counter, waiting to make his purchases.

"Now, young master Ged. Did I understand you correctly that you said you were leaving?" the jovial innkeeper asked.

"You heard me just right. And needn't ask me where, since I couldn't tell you." Ged told him sleepily. "My father woke me up this morning and told me to pack. We are leaving, and it's for good I think."

He had never seen Gorion so agitated. The old sage had told him to purchase what he needed for a long and dangerous journey from the inn and then do several chores he had quickly outlined. After these brief instructions to the bewildered youth, Gorion had run off and Ged hadn't seen him since.

Needing no armor or extra weaponry, Ged instead opted for a bedroll and several other outdoor necessities including a lantern and several flasks of oil. He also filled his waterskin from the barrel.

"Well, I guess this is goodbye then. I shall miss you Winthrop, you and your awful jokes." Ged told the innkeep. Winthrop was famous in the keep for his awful sense of comic timing and bad jokes. Imoen had often said that the only person Winthrop could make laugh was Dreppin.

They shook hands and Ged, having collected his provisions stepped outside. He was feeling tugged into different directions. On the other hand, he yearned to travel, to see the outside world. On the other hand Candlekeep was the only real home he had ever known. And how would he tell Imoen, Ged was sure she would be heartbroken to be left behind.

"Hey, over here!"

As if mirroring his first day in Candlekeep, the girl's voice came from the alley next to the Inn. This time, Imoen wasn't hiding in a barrel though, she was merely peeking out of the kitchen window.

"Morning Ged! I heard you were leaving with Mr. G. Is it true?" she chirped in her usual tone, as if nothing untoward had happened.

"Yes, but- Who do YOU know about that?" Ged sputtered, instantly suspecting the sneaky girl of eavesdropping. Or worse.

"Never mind that! Now, you must convince Gorion to take me with'cha, you MUST!" she hissed, looking anxious for a change.

"You know how you'll get into all kinds of trouble without me to look after you! And what's worse, go off adventuring without me!" she continued, pouting at him in mock anger.

"I-I can try but you know him, Immie. I don't think-" Ged stammered, before being interrupted again.

"Yes. Oh our sweet Lady Firehair have mercy, yes! Yes yes yes YES!" Imoen prattled on in her usual, breathless way.

"I know. He's SUCH a stick in the mud sometimes, that old fiddle faddle. Winthrop, the grouch HE is, doesn't even come close! Like I couldn't handle myself! I don't care what that doom and gloom letter said, I-" her hand flew to her mouth when she saw Ged's eyes widen in shock and realized what she had said.

"I-I-I m-mean there must have BEEN a letter and uh... stuff?" she grinned, looking very sweet. Ged wasn't fooled and she knew it.

"Uh, see ya later now and behave! Bye bye Ged, have a nice trip!" she said and gave him a sly wink, retreating back inside, slamming the window doors shut and leaving her friend standing dumbstruck and bewildered in the alley.

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"See, it's the brat, all right!"

The speaker was a decidedly unpleasant looking individual, a tall man dressed in what looked like pauper's rags, who was also missing several fingers from his left hand and his left eye. He and his shorter (but much rounder) companion were observing a young man of medium height and brown hair, talking to a much larger fellow.

"I told ye this bit'o'biznich would make us filthy stinking rich, I did!" the lanky fellow wheezed, sneering at his paunchy companion in triumph and spitting on the ground.

"So ya did, Shank, so ya did. I wuz wrong. Whadda we do now? Go 'an stick 'im wiv our blades?" the round fellow asked, somewhat dimwittedly.

Shank rolled his eye in disgust. "Yer such a fool Carbos. NO!" he hissed, glancing around apprehensively before continuing. No one seemed to have noticed them, skulking in the alley between the watcher barracks and the visitors' bunkhouse.

"We wait until he comes this way again, make sure we're all alone in the bunkhouse an' then we calls him inside on some excuse. And then..."

Carbos' face split in a nasty grin an ogre would have been proud of.

"An-an-and then... then we get's out them blades... them blades..." he mumbled in his excitement, as he followed his taller friend into the bunkhouse.

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"Well, I can't understand why you and your dad can't just stay here." Dreppin demanded.

"I mean, yer studying to be a wizard, right? So, what's better than to live in the biggest library of the Realms?" he continued, looking forlorn.

"I don't know why we're going or where. I didn't get a chance to ask him but he looked frightened, can you believe that?" Ged replied to his friend.

Drepping burst out laughing, but quieted down when he saw Ged wasn't feeling amused.

"Gorion frightened? Nah, I don't believe it! I mean, you told me he fought a dragon, a red dragon no less, and won! And do you remember when Ulraunt tried to discipline us and he came to our defence, when Imoen had accidentally taken that nobleman's purse? He didn't even flinch when old hooknose started yelling at him, boy wasn't THAT something?" Drepping rambled on, but Ged just shook his head sadly.

"He was actually scared, then? Wow, I wonder what's the matter." the tall youth wondered, growing somber.

"Well, this is it then. I guess I won't be seeing you again..." he asked after a moment of silence, looking at Ged sadly.

"I'll try to return someday, to see what's happening with you and Immie. You've both been the best friends anyone could hope for and I'll never forget either of you." Ged replied, trying to sound optimistic. Entering Candlekeep without being fabulously weathy or famous was a hard task for anyone, let alone one such as him whom Ulraunt seemingly detested for some reason.

The two friends shook hands and embraced before separating.

Ged thought of the tasks he still had to do before reporting back to his father.

"Get the potions from the healers, that scroll from Tethtoril (wherever he was!) and saying goodbye to Imoen, Hull and Fuller." he counted off in his mind, as he walked towards the healers house in the southeastern part of the outer courtyard.

To his relief, he saw Hull and Fuller both inside as he entered.

"Ged! How nice to see you this fine, beautiful summer morning!" Fuller hollered, even as his hard-drinking friend grimaced at his loud voice.

"Please... Fuller... by the Merciful Morninglord Lathander please be quiet... my head's pounding like an army of dwarves was hammering inside... Augh..." Hull pleaded, looking quite green and very hung over.

The elderly priest of Oghma in charge of tending the sick wandered over and shook his head in disgust at the sight of the poor soldier.

"Sick again, Master Watcher? Looks like the antidotes aren't working properly, or you keep exposing yourself to the same sickness intentionally. What ever it is, out you go! The healing powers of the gods are not to be wasted on the whims of drunkards!" he thundered, drawing a chuckle from Fuller and a groan from his miserable friend.

Ged told Fuller to wait for him outside and asked for the potions Gorion had asked. The priest dug a small wooden box from a locked chest and gave it to him. Inside were five bluish flasks, which the priest told him were healing potions capable of repairing wounds and mending bruises and other hurts.

Ged thanked the old cleric and returned to the warm summer day outside, where Fuller was leaning against the wall, nonchalantly inspecting his sword.

"Boy, Hull certainly can drink! Looks like the priests grew wise to his schemes though. Wonder what he's gonna do after this!" the amused looking watcher told him, as Ged stopped to talk with him.

Fuller listened as the young wizard explained how he was going to leave the fortress with his adopted father.

"I'm glad for you, in a way. Cloistered with all these robes is no way fer a young feller to grow up. Imoen's not going with you, eh?" he said, with a sly wink.

"No, she's staying here I guess." Ged answered, a bit mystified at the soldier's tone until he saw the man's leer. He reddened slightly and felt a bit defensive.

Fuller laughed at the sight and clapped Ged on the shoulder in a good-natured way. "Oh well, the rest of us appreciate her staying, if'n you know what I mean and I think you do. Yer a goodlookin' enough sort of feller with those fancy eyes an'all to have girlies enough outside to please any man."

Ged didn't reply, feeling a bit embarrassed at the man's talk. He had no experience in romantic matters even though he had of course had his brief crushes towards a few visiting nobleman's daughters. Imoen he considered a close friend and a kid sister for all her considerable charm and beauty.

"Oh, before Hull left for his post, the poor bastard, I noticed he wasn't carrying his sword. Would you be a good kid and get it for him. Ask around the barracks, someone's bound to be there to point you to his kit." Fuller said, yawning slightly as if bored.

Ged nodded, slightly exasperated. At least these damnable errands he was too good-natured to refuse doing would end with his leaving. He started towards the barracks when he heard Fuller shout after him:

"Have a nice trip Ged! Remember the blocks I showed you and always, always remember what Hull told you about fighting humanoids!"

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"Hey! You there, yea you!" the voice hissed at him from the door of the bunkhouse.

Ged turned and saw a man so ugly he might have passed for a half-orc beckoning toward him. The stranger was dressed quite badly, in what could only be called the remnants of breeches and a food stained linen shirt that was far too small for the short man's bulging girth.

"Could ya come an' give me a hand, the lock to me travelling chest is jammed again an' I needs someone to hold the light for me as I tries to open it."

Ged looked at the windows, every one of them was shuttered. Sighing in irritation he lowered his backpack and Hull's long sword to the ground and followed the man.

I stank like an animal nest inside. Ged gagged and held his nose as he saw the man crouch at the far end of the room.

"Why haven't you opened the windows? It would, um, let in some light." ("and fresh air", he thought)

Ged took a step towards the crouching fatman, thinking the stranger hadn't heard him as he heard the door slam shut behind him.

He tried to turn, but someone grasped his face and mouth from behind as well as his neck and throat with another hand.

"Now Carbos, slice the brat up!" someone hissed and Ged could feel his stinking, warm breath in his neck.

He struggled fiercely and flailed with his arms as her saw the short man the other voice had called Carbos rise up with a dirty knife and spring towards him, chuckling like a lackwit.

Ged was panicking in those precious moments, feeling the unseen assaillant choke him and seeing his death approach in the form of a fatman with a knife.

He was panicking, but in the same time it was as if something inside him knew as how to act.

Time seemed to slow down.

Ged stopped his flailing and opened his mouth as wide as he could, feeling his unseen assailants fingers slip in his mouth. Then he chomped his jaw together with as much force as he could.

He could hear screaming from behind him and the grip that was holding his throat loosen. He instinctively knifed backwards with his elbow, twisting his torso so his blow connected with his assailants midsection.

The scream changed into a pained grunt and wheezing gasps. Ged's brain registered this, but his concentration was already on the onrushing would-be knifer.

"...always remember what Hull told you about fighting humanoids!" the words rang in his memory, but he was already acting on them.

Feigning a stumble, Ged prepared the trap his opponent stepped right into. The fatman called Carbos slowed down and thus doomed himself. He pulled his knifehand back in preparation of a thrust that would have skewered Ged right in the stomach.

With all his strength, Ged kicked Carbos in the groin catching the dumb brute completely by surprise.

The knife fell from the man's suddenly limp fingers and he felled like a butchered cow, his face so red it looked like it would burst.

Ged's hand flew to the small pouch he carried on his belt as he turned to face the man who had throttled him. The man had recovered somewhat, and looked downright hateful with rage.

"Ya cursed little brat! Why didn't ya have the courtesy to die cleanly! Now I'll hafta paint the walls and the ceiling wiv' yer gore you little bastard!" the taller man cursed, drawing a knife so long it might have been used for a sword by a halfling or a gnome.

Ged didn't bother to reply, he opened his pouch and emptied it's contents, normal fine grained sand, to him palm. Or tried to.

To his horror, the pouch was empty! He had forgot to refill it after his last casting.

Time seemed to speed up to normal again.

Ged retreated, suddenly terribly afraid. His staff was lying on the floor behind the knife wielding thug and he hadn't the time to cast his Armor spell.

The tall assailant was edging closer, his blade ready.

"Wha-what do you want from me! I've done nothing to you!" Ged stammered, the words sticking to his throat.

"Yer head... har har... is worth a nice bit of money in gold fer someone. I care not who but I'll kill ye and get rid of this stinking poverty Black Bess inflicted me with. Sorry kid, but it's a dog eat dog world..." the man snarled, edging closer.

Ged saw no escape and prepared to desperately try and fight for the knife when the door flew open.

A small, frail red robed man stepped in.

The tall man with the knife whirled around in alarm, but grinned as he saw Tethtoril walk towards him (for that's who it was).

"Haw! Ye picked a bad house to stick yer nose into, monk. It's going to be yer final error." he laughed, and then lunged at the frail looking priest of Mystra.

There was a flash of light, and the lanky assailant tumbled to the ground, dead as a rock.

"Are you unharmed, Ged?" Tethtoril asked the quivering wizard, who was by now trembling so badly he had to lean on the wall to keep from falling down.

"Yuh-yes... Th-they t-tried to kuh-kill me. Oh Tethtoril, they tried to... and if you hadn't come they..." Ged's voice trailed off into a sob as he slid down along the wall to slump on the floor.

Ged didn't see the old and seemingly frail priest close the outside door before coming over to where he had slumped.

"Listen to me, boy. You will go to Gorion immediatly. Do not say a word about this to anyone else, or else your departure might be delayed. And considering what jusr happened, that would be a catastrophe." he said in a kind but stern tone, laying a comforting hand on the youth's shoulder.

"Duh-delayed? But WHY? Who would want to delay us because... Ulraunt?"

Tethtoril nodded with a sad look on his face.

"Yes. I am sure he would demand a full investigation, as is his right. Come now, let me help you up. There you go. Now, go to Gorion and leave these two gentlemen to me."

Ged looked at the dead assailant and the still living, though unconscious one.

"Thank you, I won't forget you Tethtoril! I promise I'll come back someday and repay you for saving me!" he told the old priest, with some of the fierceness back in his voice.

The kindly priest merely smiled and pushed him towards the door, before remembering something.

"Oh, take this scroll." Ged took the proferred item from the priest. Tethtoril smiled back, "It might have gone ill for you if I hadn't been looking for you to give this, when I noticed your supplies lying on the ground. Go now, with Mystra's blessing and mine."

Ged ran out, not looking back.


	7. VI: No greater love

Chapter 6 -:o No greater love... o:-

"There is a storm brewing."

Ged looked up in alarm, and saw his that Gorion had been correct, as usual.

A horizon spanning bank of dark clouds was quickly approaching from the sea. It was as if Candlekeep was pushing him away now that it was finally rid of him, Ged thought. They had stopped for a moment for a quick supper after travelling the whole day, and now even that was going to be cut short.

"We have no way of outrunning that. It's best we continue on, try to find some shelter amongs the trees." Gorion said, glancing at Ged from the corner of his eye. The boy was gathering up their left over rations and shoving them into his backpack with a little too much strength.

"Hurry Ged! There is something sinister at work, I can feel it in my heart!" Gorion yelled against the rising winds which rustled the leaves of the trees and bushes and whistled between the rocks.

"This time, it might not be some hapless beggar-assassin and his imbecile compatriot."

Ged, already shaken by the attempt on his life earlier, was nearing the end of his patience with his foster father's secrecy: "Please father, tell me where we're going. I-I'm very confused, the other one of those... men said there was a price on my head!" he shouted with sudden anger.

"What price and for what reason?"

The old sage recoiled from his foster child's anger. But he knew that his own delaying and avoidals were to blame here. "I promise you, when we reach the Friendly Arm I will tell you everything. You shall meet two of my good friends there, Khalid and Jaheira. They shall accompany us to..." Gorion's words trailed off as he swung his pack over his shoulder and started towards the woods, even as the first drops of rain fell on Ged's arms and head.

"Where? Where are we going? Won't you tell me at least that?" Ged demanded, running after the old wizard and trying to keep his cloak around him to shield against the wind.

With a deep sigh, Gorion turned to face the boy he had taken as his own son and apprentice. There was weariness in his answer, but his tone was kind and heartfelt.

"Alas, I cannot, for I have not truly decided yet. All that is certain is that we will be far safer on the move. Perhaps the woods might offer some secluded security, or perhaps the city of Baldur's Gate would offer cover amidst its teaming throngs of people. I do not know where we shall end up, but I have a few friends here and there."

Gorion smiled wearily, and tapped Ged on the cheek.

"I know you are tired of my secrecy. Tomorrow, when you know the whole story, I hope you will forgive me for everything. The story is rather long, and as I have some explaining to do to my friends as well, it will be easier to tell you all at the same time. Please, Ged, we should really be moving on."

Ged answered his smile with one of his own. "I trust your judgement father, I always have. You are the wisest and kindest man I know. With you by my side, I shall never be afraid of anything. Lead on and I shall follow."

Gorion nodded and turned quickly to hide his sudden tears from Ged.

The old sage felt the ice tendrils of fear seep through his body. Not fear for his own sake, but for the safety of Ged. He felt almost an electric current of danger in the air, all his old adventuring instincts told him that they were being tracked.

Stalked.

Hunted.

As they hurried forward, the rain was quickly increasing in it's intensity and furious gusts of wind whipped their cloaks about them like the red banners atop the ramparts of Candlekeep.

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Complete darkness had fallen, the sun had set and the overcast sky hid the moon and the stars.

The rain was still pouring, and occasionally a flash of lightning streaked across the sky, briefly illuminating everything around the two wizards. Ged was feeling tired to his bones, being somewhat unused to this kind of exertion. Gorion seemed to be full of energy, however, and kept a brisk pace.

"Let's hurry child!" he hollered above the crack of thunder, stopping to look back where Ged was picking himself up after slipping up on some wet leaves.

"The night can only get worse so we must find shelter soon." he continued, worriedly observing his foster child as the panting apprentice wizard reached him.

"Look, there seems to be a sort of clearing. There, do you see?" Ged tried to peer to the direction Gorion was pointing, but saw nothing.

"Those stone patterns, do you see them? Follow me." The old sage started towards the direction he had indicated.

"Let us head there and see if we can find anything that might shield us from this storm." he continued talking, as Ged slipped and nearly fell down again on the wet earth.

A flash of lightning.

Ged saw a clearing, where four large circles, with crosses inside of them, had been formed into the earth with small round stones.

"Yes! There, I see it! A funny thing, who do you-" Ged's talking was cut short by his father.

"Wait!" Gorion hissed.

The sage turned to face him with alarm in his eyes, even as another flash across the sky revealed to Ged what had alarmed his father.

Four figures, three of them huge in size, were approaching. It looked like they were all armed, but Ged couldn't be sure.

"There is something wrong..." Gorion continued, his voice trembling.

"We are in an ambush. Prepare yourself!" he yelled to Ged, and showed him back as light flared from the direction of the clearing. Magical, brightly illumating light.

A terrible voice spoke then, words that Ged would remember as long as he lived:

"You're perceptive for an old man. You know why I'm here."

The voice was that of a man, powerful and filled with hate.

"Hand over your ward and no one will be hurt. If you resist it shall be a waste of your life!"

The speaker was a tall figure dressed in black full plate mail. He was almost as tall as the two other brutish members of his group. Those two were almost certainly ogres, but horrifying as they were, the speaker held Ged's total attention. He only barely noticed the fourth member of the ambushers, as Gorion had called them, a short and slender woman dressed in black and standing behind the speaker and the ogres.

"You're a fool if you believe I would trust your benevolence." Gorion shouted, his voice powerful again. He made a threatening wave with his staff towards the ogres.

"Step aside and you and your lackeys will be unhurt." Gorion continued. He didn't shout these particular words, which made them all the more menacing. Gorion's eyes glittered like two icicles, promising a terrible death to anyone who dared to stand against him.

The tall armored figure acknowledged Gorion's challenge with a nod of it's helmeted head.

Even as Ged frantically fumbled around his pouches for the cured piece of leather that was the material component for his protective Armor spell, the imposing dark form made a quick gesture to the ogres, who eagerly hefted their huge morning stars and advanced towards the seemingly frail sage.

"I'm sorry that you feel that way, old man." the voice thundered, this time tinged with amusement.

Gorion however, was already spell casting.

A bolt of lightning flew from his finger tips, striking the first ogre squarely against it's broad chest before it had taken it's third step towards Gorion and Ged. The monstrous humanoid fell down without making a sound, and Ged could smell burned hair and something other, more horrifying.

Burning flesh.

The other beast hesitated, and thus sealed it's own doom.

Gorion snapped his fingers and pointed. The ogre was hit by ten red bolts of magical energy, released by some way of instantaneous casting Ged had never heard of before. The brute fell down, shrieking and bellowing at the pain caused by the invisible but deadly Magic Missiles wounds.

"Run child, get out of here!" Gorion shouted frantically, even as he prepared to face the armored leader of their enemies. A lightning flared and Ged saw to his terror that the towering warrior's helmet was shaped like some sort of monstrous, horned skull.

"Get that brat, I will finish the old fool!" The dark titan yelled to it's remaining ally as it advanced toward Ged's father, it's huge blade ready.

The slender female took a single step, but fell down in a heap as Gorion's third spell took effect. A Holding spell similar to the one he had once used to bring down a dragon.

Ged didn't see what had happened, he was running away as fast as his legs could take him.

He had wanted to stay, to disobey his father and bravely (if futilely) fight by his side but something had taken over his senses and he had fled. Whether it was fear or something else, he couldn't say.

The ground was slippery and more than once he almost lost his balance on the wet leaves. Branches hit his face and rocks mangled his toes, but he kept on running.

He could hear thundering blasts of Gorions magic behind him, even over the din made by the storm.

Then, a single cry of terrible pain followed by silence, broken only by the sound of rain. Even the storm had stopped.

It had been Gorion, who had screamed.

Ged ran after his senses left him and he collapsed amidst the bushes, the dying rain soaking his torn clothes and fevered skin.

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I was a beautiful morning, one a painter or a poet might have cherished.

In normal circumstances, Ged might have enjoyed such a morning. Indeed, it would have been a lovely view from the ramparts of Candlekeep that morning. Normally, the young wizard would have been shaken out of bed by his adoptive father to view such a spectacle. Today was different, and Ged was instead woken up by someone shaking him urgently and not very tenderly. He opened his eyes and sneezed. He couldn't remember where he was, and shakily rose up, helped by the yet unseen person who had woken him up.

He turned and saw Imoen's worried face.

Then he remembered where he was and what had happened.

A feeling of complete, utter helplessness and horror took over and he collapsed, burying his face in his hands and weeping bitterly.

It took several minutes for Imoen to get any sense out of him and after that, she was weeping with him. Imoen had loved Gorion too, if not quite as much as Ged had, and despite her sneaky anti-authoritarian ways, had always respected the old man.

"What are you doing here, Imoen?" Ged demanded after several moments of bitter despair, observing his friend in amazement.

The girl was dressed in her best clothes: deerskin breeches and a clean white linen shirt, a green silk sash around her slender waist and an equally green cloak over her shoulders. She also had a backpack, a dagger on her belt and slung over her shoulder a short bow and a quiver of flight arrows.

"Didya think I was going to let you slip away and have all kinds of adventures with Gorion while I was left to rot with Winthrop? Ged, what were you thinking?" she asked him, somewhat incredulously.

"But-"

"No buts!" Imoen cut her friend off, wiping the last tears from her eyes.

"I'm coming witcha, ya rumjake fool and that's it! If what ya told me happened, you need someone with some sense to look after ya now that Mr. G's..." her voice trembled a bit at the mention of Gorion, but Ged could see Imoen's eyes filled with resolve now that her tears had dried.

Ged sneezed again. He felt sore all over and sort of feverish. Shakily, leaning on Imoen, he stood up.

"What are we going to do?" the girl asked him.

"Father spoke of going to the Friendly Arm Inn... He was supposed to meet someone there, Khalid and Jaheira I think they were called..." Ged answered her after a moment's thought.

"Do you... Do you think we should go back to where Gorion was..." Imoen asked in a small voice, looking at her boots.

"I have to, but it might be dangerous, Imoen. If that- that killer is still there, we might very well meet Gorion's fate. They were after me, not him." he said.

"If you think I'm gonna let you go alone to face down some tin plated maniac with a sword you're sillier than I thought!" Imoen snapped, her voice uncharacteristically fierce.

"If that... that BASTARD shows his face I'll put an arrow in him faster than- faster than candied apples vanish around Drep. Which as you remember-"

"-Is pretty fast." Ged finished her quip with a fond, if a bit sad smile.

He hugged her and they remained embraced for a while, alone in Faerun as the two orphans that they were.


	8. VII: Homo homini lupus

Chapter 7 -:o Homo homini lupus o:-

As Ged and Imoen arrived at the scene of the previous night's carnage, they heard whooping shrieks from the clearing.

Peeking from the bushes, they saw wide areas of burned and blasted earth, which had disrupted the stone circles that had until yesterday marked the area for some obscure reason. Ged's heart constricted and he gasped as he saw a body clad in white, blood stained clothing. It could only be Gorion. Present were also the two huge ogre carcasses, amidst which four dark shapes were dancing and jumping.

"What are those... critters?" Imoen hissed in disgust, as she saw one of the shrieking monkeylike things tear off a strip of charred ogreflesh and begin messily devouring it.

"Gibberlings, I think." Ged answered, recognizing the feral humanoids from the bestiary volumes he had studied back at Candlekeep. The creatures often gathered in huge hordes and attacked anything that moved.

Ged considered his options. The sight of these carrion feeders might mean that Gorion's killer and his surviving ally had left.

"By Mask! Look at that one, it's noticed Gorion!" Imoen whispered in horror.

She was correct, two of the grotesquely thin, hair covered humanoids were sniffing and poking at the body of Ged's adoptive father.

Ged could literally feel the scream of rage that rose from within him and rushed forward, his mouth fixed in a rictus grin of pure hate that would have terrified Imoen, had she seen it. Instead she drew her bow and put an arrow on the string, preparing to cover her friend as best she could.

The feeling was a familiar one to Ged, it was as it had been with those two ruffians who had so haplessly tried to kill him back in Candlekeep. It was as if he had surrendered control to some inner force which knew how to best utilize him in the grim task of killing. The hot flames of his anger didn't cloud his judgement. Instead, his mind was filled with the perfect methods of tearing these wretched sub-humanoids into tiny shreds for the offence of trying to eat his father.

He yelled out again, and got the attention of the gibberlings which all sprung towards him, whooping in their shrill voices. Seeing he had got their attention, Ged stopped his advance and drew a pinch of sand from the ground. With a grim smile, he spoke the words of power and cast his Sleep spell, felling three of the hairy, dog sized creatures. He readied himself to face the last one in melee with his staff.

It charged towards him, oblivious of the fate of it's comrades. Just as it was preparing to jump at his throat, Imoen fired her bow, hitting the beast in chest. Making pained squeals, it trashed around until Ged crushed it's skull with a forceful blow of his staff.

He then drew his knife, and with a lack of emotion and deliberate intent that scared Imoen but that actually took some restraint on Ged's part, slit the throats of all the sleeping gibberlings.

"Ged... Uh..." she cleared her throat after her friend had finished their last foe, but he didn't hear her and instead rushed to his fallen parent. She realized the pragmatism of her friend's deed, but the merciless act had shook her up.

She brushed away the sudden tears she got in her eyes for some reason and walked to the gibberling she had shot.

"There, ya stupid grassmonkey! That's what happens when you mess with Imoen the Great and Terrible. Too bad ya can't learn from the experience." she told the deceased gibberling, poking it with the toe of her boot.

Hearing a sound behind her, she whirled around fumbling for her bow.

Two figures had risen from the bushes, where they had most likely been hiding and watching the fight.

"GED!" Imoen called, and aimed her bow at the taller stranger, a tall but thin man with wild hair, clad in green robes and a darker green cloak. The other was a halfling wearing leather armor and armed with a short sword and a brace of throwing daggers.

Hearing Imoen shout out, Ged whirled around and searched frantically for a weapon (he had dropped his staff when he bolted to Gorion's body). There was a old dagger near Gorion, which he took, rising up and mentally readying his remaining spell, which was the protective Armor.

"Heh heh... Hullo there, children!" the green clad man shouted. His tone was more mocking than friendly, and as he walked closer Ged and Imoen could see his face was covered in black tattoos which, coupled with his leering mouth and wild eyes, gave him quite an insane appearance.

"Stop right there, mister Tattoo-face!" Imoen shouted, her eyes widening in alarm at the sight of the stranger's face.

"Yes, identify yourselves! What do you want?" Ged demanded, putting a reassuring hand on Imoen's shoulder. She gave him a quick smile before turning back to face the unknown duo.

"How rude! Monty, tell me what should we do with rude children like these? Verily! My cup runneth over when I see claim jumpers telling me off. It just ruins my day..." the tattooed man said, in mocking tones feigning astonishment.

"What do you mean claim jumpers? That is my father's body there, sir!" Ged thundered, suddenly quite prepared for another fight.

"Shh... These weren't the guys you met last night, were they?" Imoen whispered to him, leaning close.

Ged shook his head in answer, but kept his dagger ready.

The two strangers seemed to have forgotten about the two friends, however. They were loudly arguing and insulting each other.

"Ye're insane, ye know that? Bleeding spellflinger, toad-eating, corpse-smelling addle-coved eedjit! That's what ye are! I told ya we should'a jumped in earlier, didn't I-" the halfing yelled in his harsh voice, having turned his sword towards the tall human.

"I'm insane?" The man yelled back, actually tearing at his own hair in his sudden fury.

"You're insane! You're out of order!" the green clad man shrieked, looking like he might have a fit and pointing at his companion with his finger as if trying to skewer him with it. "This whole world is insane!" he screamed, finishing with a horrible high-pitched laugh that eventually caused him to double over in a coughing fit.

The halfling, who the shrieking mad man had previously called Monty, regarded his companion in disgust. He was an ugly specimen for a halfling, covered in scars and unusually well-muscled for one of his short race. Seeing the tattooed man temporarily incapacitated, he sheathed his blade and turned to face the two young friends, who were watching the spectacle and feeling a little spooked.

"Never mind that eedjit, kids. 'e's just a mad, bleedin' useless wizard, 'e is. Off on one 'is 'spells' again, if'n ye take my meaning..." Monty addressed them, grinning evilly and winking his eye at Imoen.

Imoen lowered her bow and Ged stuck Gorion's dagger in his belt, seeing as it looked the situation might defuse.

"I'm sorry I was rude, sir. My name is Ged and this is Imoen." he said, bowing slightly towards the halfling.

Monty didn't seem impressed. He wrinkled his nose in disgust and spat to the ground. "Sir! Save yer whining to the nobles kid, it doesn't impress me one bit! My name be Montaron, and that eedjit coughing 'is lungs out is called Xzar. A stupid enough name, even fer a long-limb spellflinger such as 'im."

Ged and Imoen glanced at each other warily. Imoen gave a slight shrug.

"What... he he... are a pair of such... haah... beautiful children doing in these dangerous woods?" Xzar mumbled, having recovered somewhat.

"We're not exactly children, thank you kindly!" Ged snapped.

"I am a conjurer and as you saw from your hiding place, my friend can be quite the archer if need be." he stated proudly.

"Oh yes! You killed four gibberlings, that is impressive..." Xzar giggled.

"My associate and I were merely... gauging you prowess. You see, we have a proposition."

Something about this duo caused Ged's neck hairs to rise up. "What do you mean?" he demanded.

"Oh, you probably know about the troubles with iron in this region?" Xzar continued, somewhat more lucid.

Ged and Imoen glanced at each other, exchanging a puzzled look.

"Oh you don't? Well, show them Monty, show them." the tattooed wizard said, gnawing his fingernails. Ged couldn't decide if the wizard did that to mock him or if he really was so excited about something.

The halfling took out a throwing dagger, clasped it's blade and twisted.

It's tip shattered like ice, and smaller shards fell to the earth.

This caused Xzar to start laughing hysterically for almost a minute. Montaron gave him a disgusted look and turned away. He threw the dagger away, and quickly rifled through the huge sacks that had doubled us money pouches for the ogres.

Just as Xzar seemed to have recovered enough to talk, several blood curdling howls echoed through the woods.

"Wolves!" Ged yelled, glancing anxiously at Imoen.

Montaron grinned evilly at Xzar. "Well well, children. Time to go, leave these carcasses for the worgs."

"No!" Imoen yelled. "We can't leave Gorion!"

"I won't abandon him for beasts and carrion eaters to defile! Help us carry him!" Ged pleaded Montaron.

"We will help you, if you help us." Xzar said.

Imoen was frantically looking around, her bow ready.

"Help you with what?" Ged demanded, suspicion and resentment clouding his features.

Again the howls sounded, this time much closer.

"Five or six wolves, I'd say." Montaron said lazily, though his sword was drawn and he kept his gaze towards the woods.

"We'll carry your father with us, I always admire a man who doesn't leave raw material behind, he he..." the tattooed wizard giggled, as if thinking of some great joke.

"Perhaps as payment you would go with us to Nashkel." Xzar said, as if his request was the most natural thing anyone could ask.

"It is a troubled area and we mean to investigate some disturbing rumors surrounding the local mine. Some acquaintances are very concerned about the iron shortage. Specifically, where to lay blame in the matter. We are to meet the mayor of the town, a man named Berrun Ghastkill, I believe."

"Nashkel! But that's all the way south to the Cloudpeaks!" Ged blurted out incredulously. He was ready to argue the point when Imoen grabbed his hand.

"I don't like these guys either, but now it's either to accept their aid or let the wolves get us, Gorion or both." she whispered into his ear, her voice breathless from fear.

"You must promise! On the memory of your dead father here! Do it and we'll help you!" Xzar hissed, obviously getting some sort of sadistic pleasure from the sight of Ged's despair.

There was only one choice Ged could make.

"I promise you!" he shouted, drawing a grim look of satisfaction from Montaron and causing Xzar to erupt into a hysterical, evil laughter.

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They had evaded the wolves, and were carrying Gorion's body in turns, having rigged an improvised sort of stretcher out of two suitable young trees and Ged and Gorion's tent.

"Imoen told me there's a chapel in Friendly Arm, we can bury my father there."

Ged was arguing with Xzar after their turn of carrying his father's body was over.

"Bah! It's a temple of some Gnomish deity or some such useless nonsense! I say we put him to earth right here!" Xzar argued, his voice whiny.

"NO!" Ged snapped, feeling at the end of his patience for the lunatic's antics. He picked up Gorion's backpack from Imoen and briefly went over his father's belongings while continuing his argument with Xzar.

"If you want us to accompany you two to Nashkel, I want to bury my father and meet his friends first!"

Imoen and Montaron passed them, and they fell in line after them. For a while the two wizards walked in silence, which Ged gladly maintained, feeling tired and nearly sick from grief.

Gorion's spell books were gone, but he found something else of interest, a scroll tied with a red ribbon. He pocketed it and intended to read it right away, when Xzar interrupted him again.

"Did I hear you correctly, my dear child, that you said you were a conjurer?"

Ged jumped at hearing that warbling voice so close. He didn't like the madman, but did appreciate the added 'security' these two sinister travelers gave him and Imoen against beasts, bandits or worse. More a form of aggression towards their enemies, Ged thought to himself, than security.

"Yes. And didn't I hear Montaron describe you as a wizard?" he retorted.

"Mmm. I think his exact words were: 'mad wizard', a title after my own heart."

Ged blinked Xzar's tone, it actually sounded if he took 'mad wizard' as a compliment.

"Perhaps we might, how do you say... exchange spells?" Xzar inquired, in a surprisingly polite manner.

"That sleeping trick was funny. Primitive and rather low powered but funny. I might be willing to let you scribe a single spell from my book in exchange for that..."

"We'll see when we get to the Inn. I'm hoping to meet some friends of my father there, you know." Ged replied.

"Perhaps they will accompany us to Nashkel, yeeesss?" Xzar purred, his eyes wide as saucers, his voice once again mocking and spiteful.

"Um. Yes. You mentioned something about your employers-" Ged begun, but was rather rudely cut off.

Xzar was instantly livid and lunged at him arms outstretched and so pale that his tattoos seemed to fall off. "NEVER MENTION THEM! NEVER AGAIN, IF YOU WANT TO LIVE!" he screamed at Ged, literally foaming at the mouth.

Ged was preparing to defend himself when Xzar tumbled down, tripped by Montaron who then gave his erstwhile traveling companion a swift kick that seemed to take the fight out of him for the moment.

"Never mention our employers again, kid." the halfling snarled, and went back to help Imoen with Gorion's body.

It was nearly midday.

Ged stopped for a moment, made sure Xzar was paying him no further notice, and opened Gorion's scroll.

It read:

"My friend Gorion,

Please forgive the abruptness with which I now write, but time is short and there is much to be done. What we have long feared may soon come to pass, though not in the manner foretold, and certainly not in the proper time frame. As we both know, forecasting these events has proved increasingly difficult, leaving little option other than a leap of faith. We have done what we can for those in thy care, but the time nears when we must step back and let matters take what course they will. We have, perhaps, been a touch too sheltering to this point.

Despite my desire to remain neutral in this matter, I could not, in good conscience, let events proceed without some measure of warning. The other side will move very soon, and I urge thee to leave Candlekeep this very night, if possible. The darkness may seem equally threatening, but a moving target is much harder to hit, regardless of how sparse the cover. A fighting chance is all that can be asked for at this point

Should anything go awry, do not hesitate to seek aid from travelers along the way. I do not need to remind thee that it is a dangerous land, even without our current concerns, and a party is stronger than an individual in all respects. Should additional assistance be required, I understand that Jaheira and Khalid are currently at the Friendly Arm Inn. They know little of what has passed, but they are ever thy friends and will no doubt help however they can.

Luck be with us all.

I'm getting too old for this.

E"

Bewildered, Ged rolled up the parchment once again and thrust it into one of the pockets of his vest. Who was this 'E' and who was the 'other side', the ones that had killed his adopted father last night.

"'Do not hesitate to seek aid from travelers along the way'..." Ged whispered to himself. Perhaps Xzar and Montaron might provide at least some temporary aid, should his mysterious foe appear again.

He ran after his comrades, wincing with every step his sore feet took. How he longed to sit in front of a fire place and have a warm meal!

"The crossroads shouldn't be far now!" Imoen gasped to Ged as he passed her and Montaron, both already panting from exhaustion under their burden.

"From there it's only a bit more to the north, along Lion's Way to the Friendly Arm Inn."


	9. VIII: Friends of the family

Chapter 8 -:o Friends of the family o:-

The crossroads was marked with a huge stone, engraved with the names of the locations both north and south that the road lead to.

As the weary group arrived to it, they noticed an old man, clad in red robes and a fur-trimmed cloak. The stranger also had a wide brimmed, pointy hat and a long white beard. In short, he looked like the quintessential wise old wizard. He was calmly smoking a clay pipe, seemingly without a care in the world while sitting on a fallen tree, but Ged noticed he was observing them intently as they approached. At the sight of Gorion's body, the old man sprung to his feet and quickly came forward to meet them.

Ged was feeling quite weary and silently pleaded for Tymora to make the old man a friend instead of a foe.

"Ho there, wanderer. Stay thy course a moment to indulge an old man." the stranger said to him, looking at his companions only in passing and observing Gorion's body for a few moments longer.

"It's been nigh unto a tenday since I've seen a soul walking this road, and I've been without decent conversation since. Traveling nowadays appears to be the domain of either the desperate or the deranged. If thou wouldst pardon my intrusion, might I inquire which pertains to thee?" he inquired, looking at Ged cunningly but not unkindly from under his bushy eyebrows.

"Of the choices you give, I would say desperate. Could you offer me any help, kind sir?" Ged inquired. "We were attacked and my father was killed."

The old man glanced at Gorion and suddenly looked very tired and if possible, older still.

"I am sorry for thine loss. I regret not having any real advice to give thee except some advice." the stranger replied, leaning at his staff.

"The Friendly Arm Inn is but a short distance to the north, and its doors are open to all." he continued, looking over his companions once again. When his gaze passed over Ged and Imoen's new traveling companions, his countenance grew grim and his eyes flashed.

Turning back to Ged, he continued in his previous tone: "You shall find the protection to the north of shelter, friendship and another kind, if thine eyes be well enough open and thy mind alert, but more than this I cannot say. My sympathies for any hardships the road may have inflicted upon thee, though I am certain everything shall turn out for the best."

"Thank you, kind sir. Beware of gibberlings and wolves, we have fought the former and fled from the latter." Ged said, bowing to the old man respectfully.

"Thank ye for the warning, young man. May the gods watch over ye. I shall take my leave and wish thee all the best." the old man replied, smiling kindly at Ged and Imoen. Then he simply walked past them and disappeared along the southern road that led towards Beregost.

"What a strange old fellow!" Ged wondered, looking at his companions. Imoen smiled back at him, but Xzar and Montaron seemed unusually silent and pale, the wizard especially so. Ged wondered what had affected them.

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"Quiet you fools!"

Ged turned to snap back at Montaron, but held back his retort at the sight of the halfing's alert look and drawn sword. He had been furiosly arguing with Xzar and thought that Montaron had decided to join in, but Imoen too had her weapon ready. Then he heard them, the shrill cries of gibberlings.

"Prepare fer some nice, desperate bladework! They are almost on us, the bleedin' grassmonkeys!" the halfling snarled, murderous delight in his voice.

Ged tried to find the inner calm that had guided him so efficiently in his previous fights, but it eluded him. He felt his knees wobble unsteadily and a peculiar lightness in his stomach. Fumbling to untie the knot of the pouch that held his components for the Armor spell, he instead clumsily dropped his staff.

"What are ye doing, eedjit! Pick up yer bleedin' weapon!" Montaron shouted at him, enraged and disgusted at the sight of the young wizard's fear. Xzar had drawn a curved dagger from his belt, and was howling like the wolves they had evaded previously, his head thrown back.

The first three gibberlings charged at them from the bushes. Ged could feel bile rising in his throat. For a brief moment he panicked, freezing between the decision whether to complete his protective spell or pick up his weapon.

The first gibberling stumbled and fell down in mid leap, Imoen's arrow sticking from it like some strange feather.

The two others both charged at Montaron, who expertly hit one of them in the eye with a thrown dagger. The other closed the distance before he could repeat the feat, and he had to meet it with his short sword.

Five new 'grassmonkey's' ran towards the companions, howling in anger and hunger. Imoen fired another two arrows in rapid succession, missing with the first and wounding a gibberling with the second. Xzar had worked himself into a frenzy and lunged at an approaching gibberling. The mad wizard's blade bit deep, but the equally berserk creature refused to die and the two went down, both screaming, clawing, biting and tearing at one another.

"Ged! Look out!"

Imoen's voice shook the young wizard from his panic and he saw his help was needed. Imoen had been forced to drop her bow and engage two of the creatures in melee with only a dagger. Montaron had killed one of the beasts, but was beset with two others. And from the distance, Ged could see yet another four of the hairy creatures, running and leaping towards them.

Ged felt burning shame, Imoen was fighting for her life and yet found time to look after him, while he was fumbling around like a child.

Forgetting momentarily about his weapon, Ged started the familiar chant of the Armor spell, holding the blessed piece of cured leather to his chest. All four of the monsters had chosen him as their target, and were rapidly approaching.

Just moments before the first beast leapt at him, the spell took effect and Ged felt it's protective force all around him. In a sudden move that surprised the lead creature, he dropped down to grab his fallen staff. The leaping gibberling sailed over him, falling down in a confused leap and making furious snarls.

Wielding his staff like a two-handed sword, Ged swung in a wide arc to keep the remaining three gibberlings away. He hit one, and knocked the over-eager beast out cold. Two other two ducked under his swing and leaped at his feet.

Ged yelled out in surprise and anticipated pain, but the fangs of his foes skidded away without penetrating skin or even clothing. All three of them fell down, limbs tangling, but the gibberlings were momentarily taken aback and whimpering in puzzlement.

Ged's staff had fallen from his hands again, so he grabbed Gorion's old dagger and furiously stabbed at the shaggy bodies of his assailants. He hit both of the gibberling's, throwing them off momentarily. As he struggled to his feet, he saw that the other had been mortally wounded by a jab through it's neck. The other had only been grazed, and it was already growling in renewed fury and was preparing to leap.

Ged dropped his dagger and bent to grab his staff. The move was a grievous error, since he hadn't counted on the gibberling behind him. The beast jumped on his back and this time Armor didn't shield him. Ged felt the gibberlings jagged teeth sink into his shoulder and screamed in pain. He was lying on the top of his staff and couldn't use it, instead trying to reach for his dagger.

The gibberling tried to bite at his jugular, but his protective magic saved his life. It was only a matter of time, however. If only he could reach his blade...

He felt great weight on top of him and hot, flowing blood down his neck and face. Was it the end? Ged screamed in rage and with a sudden and unexpected, desperate strength he turned his foe over so that it lay beneath him. Terror and hatred clouding his sight, he pounded at the suddenly limp and motionless body of his foe with his bare hands.

"Ged! Stop it!"

Imoen's voice reached him at last and he felt some of his anger seep away. The gibberling he had been beating was decapitated. With a swordblow.

"Imoen! Quickly, it bit me in the neck! Give me a potion from my backpack, before I bleed to de-" Ged yelled, suddenly realizing his 'plight'.

A harsh, mocking laugh from Montaron cut him short. "Ye're only bit in the shoulder, ye whiny lil' excuse fer a spellflinger!"

His hand still at his wet and sticky neck, Ged glanced at Imoen. She nodded and bit at her lip, shooting an angry glance at the scornful halfling.

Ged suddenly became aware of the utter stillness, not even birds were singing.

"I do wonder, wizard, if these two are worth takin' to Nashkel, I does." the halfling snorted derisively, and began cleaning his bloodied sword on a rag he took from his belt. Ged noticed that the rag was already covered with dried blood stains.

"Nonsense Monty! So what if Violet Eye's a coward, the girl fought like a she-wolf in heat!" Xzar called, limping towards the assembled companions. As Imoen helped him to stand, Ged could see Xzar's face and mouth covered in blood. The mad wizard licked his lips and threw away his shredded and bloodstained cloak.

The halfing glanced at Xzar.

"Ye still have hair betwixt yer teeth, ye bleedin' badger!" Montaron grunted, walking over to one of the dead creatures and collecting his dagger.

With a jolt, Ged realized that Xzar had killed his gibberling by tearing out it's throat with his teeth. He felt sickened by the sight, and as a sudden wave of nausea struck him, Ged fell down on his knees and threw up, Xzar's mocking laughter ringing in his ears.

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"At last!"

The four travelers were standing before the imposing fortress that was known as the Friendly Arm Inn.

Imoen had previously told Ged how it had once been a stronghold of evil, an adobe of a priest of Bhaal. Bhaal had been the evil god of murder and death, who had perished twelve years ago during the Time of Troubles, a tumultous period when the gods had been forced to take mortal form and walk the earth by Ao, the over power.

Some gods had died during this cataclysm, Bhaal among them. The Lord of Murder had been a part of the triad of evil including Bane and Myrkul whose collective portfolio's of death, the rulership over the dead and tyranny among other things had passed to a mortal known as Cyric. Some said the so-called 'Dead Three' were to blame for the catasthrophe happening in the first place, the repercussions of which still affected the Realms.

Some years before the Time of Troubles however, an adventuring group had cleared out this keep of it's evil occupants. Two gnomish members of that very group, a husband and wife, had chosen to start an inn there. It was now a favored stopping place between Beregost and Baldur's Gate, governed by tough frontier law that forbade armed quarrels upon the pain of death.

"We made it!" Imoen sighed in exhausted relief, pausing with Ged for a moment as their two traveling companions went inside, ignoring the greetings of the guards at the drawbridge.

"Don't care about what that little creep said, ye fought bravely!" Imoen whispered to him as they wearily carried Gorion towards the fort. The guards rushed to aid them, upon seeing their burden. Ged gave a small and sad smile in answer to her, and fell to the ground, momentarily overcome from the day's horrors and the pain of his wounds, of both body and soul.

He awoke shortly after, his head on Imoen's lap. They were inside the fortress' walls, but still in the outside air. Sounds of music and merriment could be heard from inside the keep. Imoen was stroking his hair and humming some ancient wordless lullaby.

"Ya passed out. Feelin' better?" she asked merrily, seeing Ged's eyes open.

Ged smiled at his friend, struggling to rise up. Imoen helped him to stand and held his hand until he felt slightly steadier.

"We should go inside, I think. Find these Jaheira and Khalid Gorion's letter spoke of." he said.

Imoen nodded, having read the letter already twice, once back at Candlekeep while nosing around (though she hadn't told Ged this) and again when her friend had passed it to her in secret several hours ago.

"Where are-?"

Imoen cut him off, guessing who Ged was asking about. "Those two creeps! They went inside and haven't been back! Do ya really think we should follow 'em to Nashkel? Those two can't be up to anything nice, I'd lay good odds to that!"

Ged sighed, avoiding her gaze. "I don't know, Immie. I gave them my word. What's more, I swore in Gorion's name..." realizing his father's body was missing, he grasped Imoen's arm frantically. "Where is he! I need to see the-"

"Relax!" She replied. "The priestess of Garl-..." Imoen stumbled over the name. "Uh... The gnomish god. Anyway, the priestess Gellana Mirrorshade took him to the temple. We can go see him, but shouldn't we first go and look for-"

"Me."

The voice startled both Imoen and Ged, neither of whom had heard the stranger approach. The speaker was a man of about thirty, dressed in well tailored black and green traveling clothes and wearing high boots. His black hair was thinning from his temples and he had a small, pointy beard.

"Who are you?" Imoen demanded, her hand flying to her dagger. Ged too, felt alarmed. There was something almost reptilian in the way this dark-haired stranger looked at him.

"I believe you were here to meet some friends? Your name is Gedragon, foster child of Gorion...?" the man inquired in an oily manner, his eyes glinting.

"No. No, I don't believe that you're the man I was supposed to meet here." Ged answered, trying to sound sure of himself.

"You fool!" the man snarled, jumping back as Imoen yelled out and drew her dagger.

"You are the one I seek, or rather the price on your head. Don't move, young Gedragon, I have something here for you!"

To Ged's horror, the man's next words came in the spidery language of magic.

Imoen threw her dagger, but it was too late. The wizard's spell split his form into five and they shimmered back and forth from each other so it was impossible to tell which was the original. Imoen's dagger impacted one and it blinked out of existence, leaving behind four.

Ged recognized the spell as Mirror Image, one of an advanced level currently beyond his ability. But he also knew how to fight it from Gorion's stories. Yelling for the guards, he picked up a stone and flung it towards one figure.

He managed to hit one of the shimmering forms, and yet another figure blinked out. Imoen had run for her bow, but before she could fire the enemy mage snapped a few words and made a gesture towards her. Imoen dropped her bow with a scream and tried to frantically wipe her eyes.

"Ged! Help me, I can't see! Oh Ilmater, help me!"

"'Blindness'?" Ged inquired from his foe, even as he threw a second stone. This time he missed.

The wizard didn't feel the need to gloat, instead casting a third spell. As Ged saw four guards rushing towards the wizard, the enemy mage finished his spell. The guards' angry calls to stand down were replaced by horrified screams as all four turned tail and ran away in terror.

Ged threw a third stone and a third image blinked out.

With a cruel smile twisting his mouth, Ged's foe opened his mouth for his fourth spell. He only got as far as the first syllable of casting Magic Missile.

A round stone struck him squarly on the face, making him lose his concentration and ruining his spell. Both of the remaining identical images of the wizard gaped in amazement and looked to where the stone had been flung.

Two figures approached, both of them slim of build but tall and strong. A red headed man, clad in chainmail and wielding a long sword along with a small, round shield charged past Ged, even as a second sling stone hit the mage's remaining Mirror Image. The illusionary figure blinked out and left the still stunned wizard without protection.

Just as the swordsman reached the wizard, the latter came to his senses, grabbing a potion from his belt and lifting it to his lips. He was just about to pour it down his throat when the chainmail clad warrior reached him and severed his arm with a savage swing. The flask fell and shattered on the ground. Screaming in pain, the wizard drew a dagger to defend himself, but the warrior's second strike nearly cut him in two from the waist, spilling his innards on the cobblestones in a gruesome display.

Seeing his attacker dead, Ged rushed to help Imoen, who was yelling and stumbling around, seemingly blind.

"You would be Gedragon? The foster son of Gorion the sage?"

Ged raised his head in apprehension. Though the tone was rather harsh, the voice had a melodious quality to it.

The speaker was the woman who had saved him with her sling. She was a half-elf, as tall as he was with her light brown hair tied in braids from the front and sides to keep it from her green eyes. Her facial features were quite beautiful, a mixture of human and moon elven traits. She was quite well built, athletic and slim.

"I-Is he a-alright, Jaheira?" a gentle voice asked from behind Ged. He turned around and was amazed to see that it belonged to the warrior who had just saved his life, in a savage display worth one of Gorion's adventure stories.

"Hmph! Looks like it. Speak up child, or did that sniveling mage make you as deaf as your friend here is blind?" Jaheira answered, her tone somewhat brisk.

"No! I mean, yes! I am Gedragon, son of Gorion!" Ged finally answered, glancing back and forth between his two saviours.

"Ged! What's happening, didya kill that mage? Who are these folks!" Imoen demanded, rising shakily and waving her hands around.

"Please! We must take her to the priestess!" Ged implored the warrior and his female companion.

"Wuh-worry not, 'Ged'! That illusion of blindness will expire in several muh-moments!" the red headed fighter said reassuringly, slightly stumbling over several words. Ged noticed that he too, was a half-elf, though in his case only the pointed ears spoke of his graceful moon elf ancestry. That red hair and especially the slightly hapless expression was all too human, and brought Ged memories of growing up with Imoen and Dreppin.

"Never mind that! Where is Gorion! Why didn't he help you fight off this two-bit prestidigator?" the woman demanded, shaking Ged to regain his attention.

"P-p-please! Juh-Jaheira!" the warrior cut in gently, sharing a private look between his companion.

"Oh alright! Let's go inside and get you both some mulled wine!" she snarled and, turning on her heels, grabbed Imoen and started leading her towards the stairs of the keep, not very gently but firmly and steering her clear of obstacles.

"I'm Khalid, she is Jaheira. We are friends of your adoptive father." the warrior told Ged as they followed after the fiery woman, confirming what Ged had already guessed.

Feeling a bit better, he allowed himself a small breath of relief at knowing he was among friends, for now.

Then the thought of explaining Gorion's death to the seemingly bad-tempered Jaheira came to him and his mood came crashing down once again. This terrible day wasn't finished yet.


	10. IX: The wake

Chapter 9 -:o The wake o:-

The short but poignant ceremony was over.

Gorion had been buried in the small graveyard outside the inn and Ged hoped he was at peace. The gnomish priestess bid the four participants good night and left them to pay their final respects to the fallen.

Her jaw clenched tightly, Jaheira gently placed a small blue flower on the mound.

"I will build a marble mausoleum around your grave one day, old friend. Until then, sweet water and light laughter... And may Mystra see you to your deserved rest or I'll... I'll-" she turned abruptly and walked away.

"P-poor Jaheira." Khalid sighed, looking the other half-elf go with sadness in his eyes.

"She truly loved Gorion, like the fuh-father she never knew."

Ged didn't answer, Khalid's comment only reminded him that he too, was now an orphan. Imoen, acting on a impulse hugged him and held him for a moment.

"Gorion saved our lives once, d-did you know? We suh-swore then we'd help him if he ever needed us." Khalid continued in his soft voice, looking at the two young humans from the corner of his eye.

"Even though he has now p-passed on, I believe I suh-speak for both Jaheira and myself when I say we will accompany you in his stead, as both p-protectors and I hope, as fuh-friends."

Ged contemplated the half-elf's words for a moment, before he gently pushed Imoen away. When he had told them that his two 'companions' intended to take him to Nashkel, Ged had seen astonishment and suspicion flash across their faces. The two pairs had yet to meet, and for some reason Ged dreaded the moment in advance. Something about especially the fiery Jaheira and the manic Xzar felt like a surefire catastrophe for the future.

Fishing around his pouches, he took the scroll he had found from Gorion's back pack and gave it to Khalid, who read through it twice before handing it back.

"Do you know who this 'E' might be, or the 'other side'?" Ged asked as he stuffed the scroll back in his pouch.

Khalid looked nervous and glanced back to the direction Jaheira had gone.

"I... Uh- I muh-mean I might huh-have an uh-idea a-a-about tuh-that 'E'-puh-person, buh-but I really tuh-think wuh-we should wait until muh-my wife sees this." he stammered, and Ged could see he was sweating as if under great discomfort.

"Wife? You're married?" Ged asked, thinking how different the soft spoken Khalid seemed from the hot tempered Jaheira.

"Uh... Oh dear... Yes, we are. Juh-Jaheira didn't mention it for suh-some reason so I... Uh..." the warrior blushed bright red, the exact same shade as his hair, eliciting a giggle from Imoen. This caused Khalid even greater embarrassement and his stutter worsened to the point Ged couldn't make out any real words.

"Uh... Come on O brave warrior, let's head inside!" Imoen said, trying to keep a straight face and leading the stammering and flustered half-elf towards the inn by the hand.

"Coming, Ged?" she asked her friend, her tone somewhat less jovial.

"No. I'll follow you shortly. Order a mug of cider for me and try to get hold of Xzar and Montaron if you can." Ged answered, focused on Gorion's grave once more.

"Sure thing, but don't tarry chum. I heard from one of the guards that there are bandits and humanoid brigands around, robbing and killing." Imoen said as she left with the warrior, leaving Ged alone with his thoughts.

It must have been nearing midnight, the young wizard realized. He stood there in silence for several moments, calling to mind the many happy memories of his childhood.

Gorion had promised to tell him about his real parents, when they had reached this inn. Now he was dead.

"Hello, child."

The voice startled Ged and he spun around in alarm.

But it was only a peasant woman bearing three red roses and carrying a candle. She was youngish and quite pleasant looking, dressed in a brown dress and her hair tied back in a scarf. The woman knelt at Gorion's grave and placed the roses next to Jaheira's flower.

"My lady...?" Ged blurted out, astonished. "Did you... know my father?"

The woman smiled at him enigmatically. "I did, once." she answered.

"How... Please, dear lady, won't you tell me your name?" Ged pleaded. Was this a chance meeting or something else entirely?

The woman considered his question for a moment. "Ragal, that's how he called me." she answered as if the matter had required some consideration. She rose up and swept the dust from her dress.

"'Ragal'..." Ged mused, not recognizing the name.

The woman gave him a small curtsey and started back towards the inn.

"Please stay for a moment, my lady!" Ged shouted after her. The woman disappeared into the gloom. Ged started after her, not about to let this stranger leave so easily.

"Tell me about him, please! I- I will buy you a drink and-" his word trailed off in surprise.

He had run to where she had walked, but the woman had vanished, seemingly without trace.

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"'Ragal'?"

Jaheira and Khalid shared a look. Jaheira shook her head slightly and turned back to Ged.

"I don't recognize the name. How old did you say she was?"

"About thirty, I guess. Listen-" Ged began, but was cut off by the sight of a thrown dagger impaling itself in the middle of their table.

Khalid sprung from his seat and would have drawn his sword if not for his wife coolly gripping his swordarm.

Xzar and Montaron were approaching their table.

"So! These are your old man's friends! Elves!" Xzar thundered, disgust evident in his tone.

"Bleedin' elves it is indeed! Smelled their filth all the way to our rooms, I did." Montaron snarled in response to his partner, spitting to the floor as if sickened by the sight of Gorion's friends.

Ged rose to make introductions, but the surly pair stormed past him, Montaron painfully elbowing Ged into his stomach. The duo joined Imoen and the half-elves at their table.

"Puh-pleased to make your-" Khalid started, but his unfortunate stammering made start Xzar howling his unpleasant laughter.

"P-p-pleased t-t-to m-m-meet y-y-you too, ye pointy eared freak!" Montaron mocked the unfortunate warrior, reaching out to retrieve his dagger.

Jaheira lashed out with her staff, shattering the embedded blade into multiple shards and causing the halfing to jump back with a yelp and a curse. Xzar shrieked and lost his balance, tipping over in his chair and falling flat on his back.

"Shut your pieholes, both of you. I've dealt with your sort of vermin before and I warn you both fairly, attempt any mischief and your skulls will look like that knife after I've finished with you." she snapped.

Xzar rose from the floor, eyeing the half-elf woman murderously.

"Yer welcome to try, witch." Montaron snarled, but sat back in his chair, out of her reach and merely eyed her darkly.

"Gedragon told me of your blackmailing him and the girl. By Silvanus, you are lucky Khalid and I are already heading for Nashkel or I would tan your filthy hides for this outrage! Taking advantage of my friend's child in his most vulnerable moment!" she continued, barely restrained fury making her melodious voice rather tremulous.

"You're going to Nashkel as well?" Ged cut in, incredulous.

"Yes. The... group Khalid and I are belong to are rather interested in this 'Iron Plague'. You saw what happened to the dagger. It didn't just snap, but literally disintegrated. The same apparently holds true for all iron items in the region, from shovels to full plate mail armor. I am a follower of the druidic ways of Silvanus, and I can tell you the phenomenon is certainly not a natural one."

At her mention of 'the group', Xzar's jaw fell open. Montaron's face twisted into a murderous scowl and he started fondling his blade.

"Cuh-careful there, halfling." Khalid warned, his hand straying to his own sword once more.

"Yes. Be careful, Montaron" Jaheira sneered. "It wouldn't please your 'employers' much for you to get yourselves killed before you're even halfway to Nashkel."

"Be silent, THOU MOST SLANDEROUS HARLOT!" Xzar suddenly shrieked, jumping to his feet. The mad mage's face was twisted in a feral snarl and he looked ready to lunge at Jaheira's throat when he tripped up in his own feet and fell down, hitting his jaw on the table's edge with a nasty thump.

The mad wizard sprawled on the floor like a puppet with it's strings cut, unconscious.

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After Montaron had dragged his partner away, the mood of the rest of the group improved somewhat.

Khalid told Ged and Imoen several short stories of his memories about Gorion, Jaheira keeping silent and only correcting her husband in several places. Several names Khalid spoke of were familiar, but he sensed that the half-elf was omitting some details for some reason. Feeling bone tired himself, Ged chose not to press the warrior for further details.

Ged had tried to ask the half-elves about the mysterious 'E' person mentioned by Gorion's letter, or the 'other side' that was obviously after him. Uneasily, Jaheira had told him that she and Khalid could guess who 'E' was, but since he had obviously decided to stay out of this affair, mentioning his identity wouldn't be productive. Ged wasn't very satisfied with the explanation, but decided to resume his inquires later, at a better time.

He rose from the table and excused himself. Imoen had managed to reserve two beds for them, from one of the common rooms. The inn was nearly at full capacity and only the richest nobles currently held private rooms.

"Wait, before you go take a look at this." Jaheira said, grabbing his sleeve. She handed him a note, spattered in blood.

Ged opened it and read the broad writing, a growing feeling dread making him unsteady on his feet.

The note read:

"BOUNTY NOTICE

Be it known to all those of evil intent, that a bounty has been placed upon the head of Gedragon, the foster child of Gorion.

Last seen in the area of Candlekeep, this person is to be killed in quick order.

Those returning with proof of the deed shall receive no less than two hundred coins of gold.

As always, any that reveal these plans to the forces of law shall join the target in their fate."

Ged handed the note to Imoen and looked in horror to his new companions.

"I found it from the corpse of that stinking assassin. I recognize the type of notice, and I'm afraid we will have trouble with his ilk in the future. This kind of information tends to spread far and wide among the scum of society." Jaheira said grimly.

Khalid nodded sadly. "If only Gorion had told you why they're chasing you. Perhaps we should contact-" he said, before Jaheira cut the rest of his words off with a quick movement of her head.

"No, in the future perhaps. Now we have to go to Nashkel and try to make some sense of this 'Iron Plague'. There is some trickery at work here, and no doubt Gorion would have accompanied us on this task."

Khalid nodded, and both half-elves turned to regard Ged once more.

"What do you say? Now that Gorion has passed on, will you accompany us to Nashkel? It might not be the instant vengeance you desire, but I promise you, both Khalid and myself will stand at your side if the identity of Gorion's murderer comes to light." Jaheira said.

"Let's go with them, Ged!" Imoen joined in, her voice eager.

"We can be heroes if we solve this mystery, just like in the stories! Gorion would have approved of that, I'm sure!"

"I-If you like, you can rest and tuh-tell us in the morning." Khalid said, noting that Ged could hardly keep to his feet.

"No need for any more hand wringing, I will follow you where ever you are going. Gorion would wish me to, and I owe you my life already." Ged answered, drawing a smile from Khalid, squeal of glee from Imoen and a satisfied nod from Jaheira.

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For all his tiredness, Ged woke up before Imoen the next morning, feeling rested and somewhat better. He had gone downstairs to re-memorize his spells and was in the process of doing so, when Xzar came to sit in his table. This time the madman was acting very charitable and merely offered Ged a spell from his repertoire in exchange for Sleep. Ged agreed, and was presented with a scroll Xzar had already scribed for the occasion. The tall wizard nearly lost his temper again, when Ged didn't immediatly give him his spellbook but was calmed after eliciting a promise from Ged to give him the opportunity as soon as possible.

After Xzar had gone, Ged looked over the scroll eagerly. It proved to be a necromantic spell called Larloch's Minor Drain, a combat spell capable of draining a small amount of a foe's life energy and giving it to the caster. Ged shuddered a bit at the description, necromancers were usually not the most genial of spellcasters. Could Xzar be a one, or was he merely using necromantic spells like those of any othe school?

Imoen and Jaheira joined him shortly, and Ged could see that his friend had acquired a leather vest, that came with arm and leg guards also made of leather. The half-elf was also armored in leather and carrying a staff similar to his own in addition to her sling and a dagger at her belt.

"Here." Jaheira said, handing him a small amulet. It was a silver disc on a silver chain. On the disc was engraved a tendril of mist rising upwards circled by nine stars, the symbol of Mystra.

Ged held the holy symbol of the goddess of Magic in silence, before putting it on. The silver disc felt cool against his chest.

"It was Gorion's. Keep it as a rememberance, but do not dwell on your loss. He would have you look into the future." Jaheira stated, somewhat frankly, and left him sitting in silence with Imoen.

"I have a present for you too, Ged." Imoen said, glancing around to see no one was close by.

She fished a book from her backpack and slid it over to Ged. Ged stared at the tome in amazement. It was a traveling spellbook.

"What- Where...?" he gasped, at a loss for words.

"It belonged to that gully napper who attacked us. I snuck to where they had taken him and his stuff and took it. He doesn't need it anymore!" she giggled.

Ged opened the book and looked over the multitude of spells contained within. It was a great boon for a beginning wizard such as him to gain such a book, and it would ease his advancement considerably. He resolved to keep the book to himself, not trusting Xzar with the advanced spells it contained.

"Ged..." Imoen said, her voice more restrained than usual.

Ged raised his gaze from the book and saw her anxious expression.

"We will stick together, won't we? What ever happens..." she asked in a small voice.

Ged was astonished at her sudden moodshift. "Of course, you are my best friend Imoen! Come what may/I shall be your friend/to my dying day." he rhymed haphazardly, trying to lighten her mood.

It seemed to work, the girl's face lit in such a smile that a deva might have fallen in love with her just then.

"Ha! You should'a become a bard! Come what may indeed! I'll hold ya to that!" she reached across the table and planted a kiss on her astonished friend's forehead.

"Start packing!" Jaheira's voice carried all the way from across the common room. "We leave before noon!"

-:o Next episode: What ever happened to Silke Rosena? o:-


	11. X: What ever happened to Silke Rosena?

Chapter 10 -:o What ever happened to Silke Rosena? o:-

It was the third day of Mirtul, high noon.

Imoen had taken it upon herself to act as a scout and had run off some time ago. Ged was walking with Khalid, listening the gentle warrior's description of his youth in faraway Calimshan, where he had grown up as an unwanted offspring of a elven concubine and a rich merchant.

Montaron and Xzar walked behind them, quarreling about something like usual. Jaheira followed several paces behind the pair, keeping a wary eye on both the couple and the bushes for any ambush attempts.

As they came closer to the crossroads, Ged remembered the strange old man they had met. Wondering if they should ever meet him again, the young wizard took a hearty swig out of his waterskin.

"Oghma help me! It's hot!" he mumbled to no one in particular.

"It is, isn't it? The s-sun, I mean." Khalid said. "Y-you mentioned Oghma. Do you follow the tenets of the Luh-Lord of Knowledge?" the warrior inquired.

"No." Ged answered without much reflection. "I mean, I respect him more than most gods, except Mystra and Azuth of course, but I don't consider myself very religious." he added hastily, seeing Khalid's quizzical look.

"In a way I recognize the power and majesty of the deities, but I want to decide my own course. Make my own destiny." Ged continued on his train of thought, his hand straying inside his shirt to touch the silver medallion.

"Heh. I know w-what you mean." The warrior said after a moment of silence. "Jaheira is the religious one. M-me, I respect the gods but d-don't follow the tenets of any single deity. I am cuh-content to leave the g-grand ideas and cuh-concepts to smarter people than me. Suh-simple soldier Khalid, t-that's me!"

Ged smiled back and was about to ask the warrior about Jaheira's druidic ways when their chat was rudely interrupted.

Several scruffy looking men jumped from the bushes, clad in leather armor and wielding swords and bows.

"Righty-o!" one of them yelled out, a tall blond man with several missing teeth and armed with a bastard sword he wielded with both of his hands.

"Drop yer weapons and hand over yer jools an' coins, do that an' perhaps we'll let ye live. After some fun wiv' yon lady, of course." he indicated towards Jaheira, making an obscene gesture that made several of his fellows laugh nastily.

"Stinking brigands, you'll get neither!" the warrior-druid yelled angrily. She retreated a few steps and uttered a short prayer to Silvanus.

Khalid drew his blade and charged the leader, who was momentarily taken aback by the furious attack.

"Stick 'em, lads!" another bandit shouted, and the bow wielders let their shafts fly. Ged dodged the one arrow which had been shot towards him and began the short chant that Armor needed to be cast.

Xzar and Montaron were both hit, Xzar rather severely. Jaheira drew most of the fire, but miraculously she emerged unscathed. Montaron, only grazed, cursed and expertly flung one of his daggers at the bandit who had hit him. The man fell, the short blade in his throat.

The bandits' war cries changed into screams of surprise and horror as Jaheira's prayer caused the very roots to rise up through the earth to snag their legs and hold them in place. Several of the stronger bandits struggled free, but most were held fast. Ged also completed his spell and felt the protective aura surround him.

He again tried to reach inside him, attempting to find that comforting cold drive which had guided him in his first battles. He couldn't find it, but this time he didn't panic. His heart raced and he was afraid, but the fear didn't cripple him. Reaching inside his pouch, he prepared to cast Sleep at the largest group of entangled bandits.

Khalid had gauged the skill of his opponent in his first few careful strikes, as was his style. His method of fighting was cautious, preferring to allow his enemy to make the over reaching mistakes that then proved fatal. Many of his foes had mistaken the half-elf's passivity and defensiveness as either cowardice or lack of skill. Not many had survived their error.

The bandit leader proved to be no exception. Laughing savagely, he lunged at Khalid with his long blade raised above his head. The nimble half-elf stepped aside and let the bandit impale himself on the half-elf's waiting sword. The man bellowed in pain and surprise, keeling over and dying shortly after.

Xzar had ripped off the two arrows that had struck him, worsening his wounds, which now bled freely. The madman didn't seem to be in any serious discomfort however, and cast a spell on one of the bandits now fighting with Jaheira.

A small shimmering globe shimmered from his hands and hit the bandit, who gasped in pain. Some of Xzar's wounds closed and the bleeding stopped.

Ged also finished casting, causing the entangled bandits and the one wounded by Xzar to fall over, fast asleep.

Montaron drew his sword and charged the prone forms.

"Look out!" Imoen's from behind the trees, where the road turned.

Ged smiled grimly. Of course Imoen should choose this moment to return, when they had all but won the battle.

"It's an ogre!"

Indeed it was, as Imoen stumbled in midst of the ongoing melee, Ged could hear the enraged bellows and thundering footsteps following her behind the curve of the road.

"Whoa! Who are these creeps!" she yelled, crouching under one bandit's wild swing and drawing her dagger.

Jaheira killed her foe with an almost contemptous blow in the throat, crushing her opponents adam's apple with her staff. "Khalid! The ogre!" she screamed at her husband, who had similarily finished his own opponent, a short bearded bandit who had managed to survive several moments longer against the half-elf than his late leader.

Again, Xzar cast his life draining spell, this time at the last bandit who was trying to kill Imoen. The bald-headed brigand screamed in pain and fell even as the green clad mage sighed in pleasure, watching the last of his wounds mend.

Then the ogre lumbered into view.

Montaron was slitting the throat of the last sleeping bandit, when he heard Jaheira's warning. The ogre spotted him. Scoffing, the halfling tried to scamper towards his companions, but was held fast by something.

The vines! Jaheira's enchantment was still in force and the undisciplined halfling was now stuck amidst the dead brigands!

Imoen shot a quick pair of arrows, but they didn't seem to penetrate the ogre's thick hide.

Jaheira's expertly aimed sling stone had better results, and hit the beast right in it's open mouth in mid-scream. Ged winced as he heard teeth snap and the ogre snarl in pain and anger, spitting out tooth shards.

Their attempts to deflect the brute from Montaron hadn't succeeded, however. Even as Khalid rushed the beast, it's great club landed with bone crushing force on the halfling's struggling form. Montaron's scream of rage was cut short by the sickening crash of the ogre's blow.

Khalid reached the beast and swung a mighty blow intended to sever the mighty humanoid's right leg from the knee. Unfortunately the beast had cobbled together some sort of improvised leg armor, and Khalid's blow was deflected and the half-elf knocked off balance for a moment.

The ogre kicked him, sending the warrior stumbling backwards, the breath knocked out of his lungs.

Even as the ogre towered over Khalid, intending to smash the warrior with it's club, Jaheira interposed herself with the monster and her husband, thrusting out her staff like a spear, and hitting a painful blow against the ogre's ribs.

Ged edged closer, intending to reach Montaron and drag him away. Imoen took a more careful aim, and sunk an arrow in the ogre's chest.

Enraged, the beast tried to smash Jaheira, but the druidess was much too quick on her feet, dodging the blow and giving the clumsy ogre another painful bruise, this time across it's head. Khalid had recovered somewhat, and was circling the beast while his wife kept it occupied.

The half-elves were obviously used to fighting together and didn't need any verbal communication to implement this tactic. Jaheira's last blow had wounded the beast in the face and it's left eye was swollen shut. Noticing the blind spot, Khalid wielded his sword like a huge dagger and plunged it to the hilt in the ogre's back like some outsized assassin's dagger. Mortally wounded, the beast twisted and tried to swat the warrior but Khalid jumped back and the great club connected with nothing but air.

Everyone backed away, not eager to get hurt in the monstrous humanoid's death throes. Giving a last, pained whimper the brute tumbled over.

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Montaron was alive, and had woken up after Jaheira had healed his wounded chest with her magic. The halfling wasn't feeling particularly grateful, and had rewarded the half-elf's kindness with an obscene remark.

Ged had intended to furiously berate the little lout, but after seeing Jaheira's non-reaction to the insult, he had stifled his anger and expressed his admiration of the half-elves' actions during and after the battle to her instead.

"Think nothing of it." was her reply.

Seeing the astonished look on the young wizard's face, she smiled ever so slightly and sighed, wiping sweat off her brow.

"Don't get me wrong, Gedragon. I don't like those two, and I certainly don't trust them, but for the moment we are allies and I would never abandon one in the middle of combat." she said, inspecting the pile of loot they had got from both the bandit's and the ogre.

The bandit's had travelled light, and carried nothing more than their armor and weapons, but the ogre had been richer. It's sack was stuffed with at least fifteen diffrent belts of varying design, in addition to several silver necklaces and one ring with a small obsidian stone. It had also possessed some fifty three gold coins.

"We better hold on to these belts, you can check them for any magical aura they might possess later." the druidess remarked, shoving the sack to Ged.

"Do not try any of them on, and make sure that the girl understands this also. Cursed items have been the bane of many overeager young hero." she said, glancing to the approaching girl.

"I'm sorry I missed those rumduke brigands, squatting in the thicket like they were rats or something!" she chirped, not looking very remorseful.

"I came to tell ya, that the big lunk lying over there attacked me as I was coming back to tell you about this queer fellow, standing on the road as if waiting for someone."

Ged was instantly alarmed, remembering the wizard who had attacked him and Imoen in the Friendly Arm.

"I don't think we have anything to worry about this guy." Imoen said, seeing her friend's expression.

"Why do you say that, child?" Jaheira demanded.

"Child? Yeesh!" Imoen scowled at the older woman's words. "He looked like a nobleman or something from the distance, not nasty like that creep who made me go blind!" she huffed in an indignant, wounded tone.

"Standing on the road... Hmph!" the druidess scoffed, not impressed with Imoen's wounded feelings.

"I suppose we shall have to pass him by, then. Be on your guard, both of you! And let me do the talking." she said, before walking to her husband.

"Bah! What's eating her? I come up with all this valuable information and she just pushes us around like we had to take her stinkin' orders or something!" Imoen remarked, pouting and casting resentful looks towards the druidess.

Ged just shook his head at his friend's outburst. Personally, he was glad that Jaheira was giving him some direction, someone whoknew how to deal with bandits and ogres and keep their troublesome travelling companions in line.

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Just like Imoen had told them, a young man was standing in the middle of the southbound road.

Khalid and Imoen led the companions, Ged was helping the still weak Montaron along and Xzar and Jaheira came last.

The young man's whole demeanor perked up visibly when he noticed the companions. He was dressed in what looked like some nobleman's castoffs, short blade on his hip. The foppish effect he projected was further complemented by the wide brimmed red hat, from which protuded an enormous feather of some exotic bird, and his hip length highboots, complete with stirrups.

Ged thought the youth looked absolutely ludicrous.

"Hail adventurers!" he greeted them, taking off his ridiculous hat and bowing with great flourish. There was something very theatrical in the way the fellow carried himself, even his voice sounded like he was acting out some part on the stage.

"I am Garrick, a bard of some renown." he continued, pausing for a moment to see if any of the companions recognized him. Not one of them did, and an alarming scowl had started to form on Jaheira's face.

The youth gulped hastily, before continuing. "Yes, I am sure you will hear of my exploits in the future. For now, I am seeking valiant heroes to aid my mistress, the great Silke Rosena!" again, Garrick waited for someone to recognize the name.

A moment of silence passed between the group and the young bard.

"Uh... Tell us of y-your mistress." Khalid said, giving the boy a polite, encouraging smile.

"I see that you haven't been following the world of performance art, sirs and madams! No matter, I am sure you will remember Silke after today!" the bard proclaimed, his eyes shining dreamily. "She is the finest thespian of the Sword Coast, perhaps the finest on Faerun! And her singing and dancing have been-"

The wounded halfling, his mood even fouler than it usually was due to his injury, decided that he had had enough of the boy's superlatives. "Shut yer trap, ye bleedin' dressed-up ninny! How much will yon actress pay fer our help, and remember I be talking gold and silver here, not bloody singin' or dancin'!"

The bard looked stricken for a moment, before answering. "I've been instructed to, ahem... offer three hundred coins of gold to any potential heroes! A kingly sum, I might say-" he grinned, but quickly sobered up as Montaron again cut in.

"Haw! Now that be sounding much better than all that rot ye spoke of first! We accept, who does yer mistress need fer us to kill!" the halfling snarled, drawing a delighted giggle from his partner.

"Wait one moment, you little fool! The boy said nothing about killing anyone!" Jaheira turned towards the sneering halfing, anger flashing in her eyes.

"Weeelll..." the bard replied, shifting his feet uneasily.

"I told ye! Fer that kind of reward, it's usually a matter of giving a dirtnap fer some poor bastard or two!" Montaron said, grinning triumphantly.

"No! I mean, it might come to violence! But if you manage to scare off the thugs who threatened my mistress, all the better!" the young bard cried, "I absolutely abhor violence." he added, casting a wounded look at Montaron, who had scoffed at his protestations.

"If it doesn't take long, we c-could probably use the muh-money, my dear." Khalid said to his wife softly, showing her his nicked and pitted weapon and worn chain mail.

"Oh very well then! Take us to this 'thespian', boy! But I warn you, if this turns out to be a trick..." the scowling druidess let her words trail off menacingly, and her meaning seemed to be clear to the bard, who paled visibly.

Garrick offered a weak grin and motioned the companions to follow him off the road, towards the nearby hills.

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A couple of colorful silk tents had been raised at the base of a green hill. Behind it rose the rosy red spires of the 'The Song of Morning', a great temple of Lathander the Morninglord, located slightly east of Beregost.

A woman was regarding the approaching companions and their guide from the camp, tapping her foot impatiently and occasionally glancing towards the direction of the town.

She was rather attractive, if sharp featured, having short, raven hair and dark eyes. The woman was dressed in much finer clothes than her young hireling, black trousers and red silk shirt with white lace cuffs. She was also carrying a fine staff made from white wood and capped with what looked like gold from both ends.

"Finally!" she yelled in a rather low and throaty voice for a woman of her slight build. "Garrick, I had almost given up hope!"

"Did my little Garrick explain the matter to you?" she asked Jaheira, as the companions gathered around her.

"Not fully, something about thugs who needed to be scared off." the warrior-druid answered, observing the other woman intently.

"Yes, I suppose he had to mention the reward to lure you here. Good." Silke said, a somewhat cruel smile forming on her lips.

"The thing is, some thugs which the local innkeeper hired, to try and force me to go and perform in his dingy little establishment, should be arriving shortly. Feldepost, that beast, thinks he can push me around!" she huffed, looking almost overtly angered considering her otherwise calm demeanor.

"Fuh-Feldepost? I-I thought he passed away, long time ago?" Khalid said, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. Jaheira showed no outward emotion, but glanced at her husband and nodded slightly.

Silke looked taken aback, shooting a furious look at Garrick and then silently observing the group for a moment.

"I meant his successor, how silly of me." she said, picking up a black silk sack from the ground. The ringing of coins could be heard as she gave it a slight shake.

"I see you are all men and women of principle, so I give you a fair warning! One of the men is a wizard, who possesses spells that can beguile you into believing anything he says. Strike immediatly, and don't believe what they say!" she hissed. "I'll raise your wage to four hundred gold coins, just do what I tell you to!"

"Mistress Rosena! They come!" Garrick yelled, frantically pointing towards the forest from where three men dressed in brightly colored clothes were approaching.

Jaheira pulled Ged close to her, and whispered to his ear. "Be on your guard, I smell trouble. That woman was lying, I am rather sure of it. Follow mine and Khalid's lead."

"Prepare!" Silke hissed, withdrawing behind the companions.

Xzar had his curved blade out and Montaron was leaning on the tall mage, a throwing dagger in his hand but everyone else kept their weapons sheathed or at least not pointing at the approaching men.

Ged noticed that the men were all middle-aged, rather well fed and none of them carried any visible arms. It was looking more and more like a setup.

As the men drew closer, two of them stayed back while the most opulently dressed timidly edged closer. Ged could see the man tremble at the sight of him and his friends.

"H-hello miss Rosena. I have the g-gems you-" he started speaking, his voice trembling.

"Shut up! Your magic won't work on these heroes! Attack them now!" Silke cut the man off, screaming.

The man paled and fell to his knees. "Puh-please! Take the gems, but spare me!" he wailed, even as Montaron raised his hand, preparing to throw his knife at the kneeling man.

Jaheira reacted swiftly, hitting the halfling on his hand and causing him to drop his blade with a pained gasp. Khalid jumped to stand between Silke and the hapless 'thug', having drawn his sword.

"Wuh-We won't m-murder anyone so obviously innocent!" he yelled. Ged hastily tried to grab Silke's hand but the furious woman gave him a stinging blow across the face with her fist that sent him reeling. Imoen retreated from the furious Silke, quickly readying her bow.

"Fools! You are obviously some group of pathetic do-gooders, out to ruin my day! I shall kill you and then kill those merchant wretches myself!" she hissed, and to Ged's shock, started spell casting!

With an alarmed yelp, Imoen fired her arrow, but Silke's spell was already complete. Her shaft hit an invisible barrier and deflected away. Jaheira swung her staff, but Silke blocked her blow quite skillfully, jumping back to keep her distance from the druidess.

Khalid ran around the Silke to block her escape route and Ged attempted to follow the warrior's example, completing the encirclement by rounding the other way round. Imoen fired a second arrow, but her aim was poor, as she tried to avoid missing her friends, and the shaft missed it's target entirely.

As if on a cue, Khalid and Jaheira both sprang towards their foe, who again yelled a few words in the language of magic. It was a familiar spell, Mirror Image, and the half-elves only hit the illusionary doubles, leaving five shimmering Silke's leering at them.

Ged also tried his best, but his wild swing didn't connect with the nimble woman or any of her Images.

Silke started casting again, this time something much more complicated.

"Hurry! Kill her now!" Jaheira screamed and hacked furiously at the dodging Silke and her illusionary doubles. In a few more strikes, only the real Silke remained. Then her spell was complete and she vanished into thin air.

"Invisibility, by Silvanus!" Jaheira cursed, starting to swing wildly into areas adjacent where their foe had stood. Khalid mirrored her actions. Then Ged heard Silke's quiet casting voice coming from behind him.

"She's here!" he yelled, swinging futilely. A crackling lightning bolt streaked through the air and struck Jaheira, causing her to fall down, twitch briefly and then lay motionless, her clothes smoking. Screming his wife's name, Khalid ran towards Silke's presumed position.

Imoen, who was biting her lip to avoid crying saw a bush move behind where Khalid and Ged were swinging at the empty air. Instinctively, she took aim and fired. There was a surprised shriek of pain, and droplets of blood fell on the leaves.

Khalid turned instantly and ran to the bush, swinging his sword in a vertical slash at the presumed position of the treacherous ms. Rosena. There was another scream as Khalid's blow connected, and a severed hand, still clutching the white staff Ged had admired, fell to the ground along with more blood.

Imoen could see more droplets fall as Silke fled, still invisible. She shot a quick trio of arrows after her but none found their targets. Khalid started after her, when Ged yelled to him from where Jaheira had fallen.

His face pale and his hands trembling, the warrior kneeled where his wife lay, whispering her name.

Jaheira was alive, though unconscious.There was no mark on her except an area where her armor and clothing had singed slightly.The two men breathed easier, and Khalid felt his eyes moisten in his relief. As the warrior was gently tending his wife's injuries, Ged heard a sound like a cough behind him.

"You little conniving rat!" Ged yelled, spinning around to face Garrick who had cleared his throat.

"Did you set us up intentionally?" he demanded, walking to the frightened bard and grasping the front of his worn silk shirt threateningly.

"I swear to you, young sir! I did not! I swear in Tyr's name, I didn't!" he spoke rapidly, obviously scared for his life.

With a disgusted grunt, Ged shoved the hapless young bard away and turned his fury at the two members of their group who hadn't lifted a finger during the fight. Imoen joined him, her usually merry features darkening in anger.

"What's with you two gully pennies? We could'a used some help with that witch!" she yelled at the pair, who were emerging from the thicket they had hid themselves during the engagement.

"Bah! Ye bleedin' eedjits! It be yer own bloody fault, attacking someone who jes' wanted to employ us an' pay all that gold!" the halfling sneered.

"That's right!" Xzar pouted, looking and sounding like a miserable child. "Tell yon elf witch to never hit my Monty again or I'll-"

"You'll do what, wizard?" the druidess' voice intoned wearily from behind them.

Ged and Imoen whirled around, relief lightingup their faces.

Khalid was supporting his wife, helping her to stand. Jaheira was ashen faced and weak-looking, yet her eyes blazed furiously as she regarded the halfling and the tattooed wizard.

"I suppose we should rest here for a while, I don't think the witch will trouble us anymore today." the druidess mused, seeing no further challenge from the sullen pair.

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The merchants, who had fled the instant the battle started, returned soon after expressing their gratitude and presenting the companions with a token of their esteem, a potion they said would protect the imbider like a invisible suit of plate mail armor.

Garrick had also stayed around, continuing to pledge his innocence and good intentions. The young bard seemed to be genuinely shocked about Silke's actions, and Ged quickly forgave him.

The bard's next proposal shocked him, however.

"Might I travel with you for a while?" he asked in polite tones from Jaheira, who was feeling a bit better after healing herself with the aid of her god.

"No!" Montaron snarled simultaneously with Imoen's "Yes!"

Jaheira glanced wearily at Khalid, who tried to supress his smile. The warrior gave a slight shrug.

"Can you tell stories?" Xzar warbled, still sounding like a child.

"Uh... yes, I suppose so, though my forte is singing." Garrick answered, looking at the unsteady wizard warily.

Xzar's face brightened and he clapped his hands joyously. "Hooray! You must come with us! Do you know the one about bears and gold? Monty told me that and it was so lovely I was happy for hours and hours and hours!" he squealed, starting to dance around in joy.

Imoen couldn't supress her mirth at the wizard's outrageous behaviour and started giggling uncontrollably.

Turning towards the bard, Jaheira sighed wearily. "Come with us then, but do realize that we are attempting to solve this iron crisis, and it will be dangerous. Can you use that sword?"

The young man beamed with pleasure, and assured the weary warrior druid he had been well schooled at swordplay. Bowing to Jaheira in an overtly courteous manner, he turned towards Imoen and engaged the young woman in conversation about some subject or the other, futilely trying to ignore Xzar's dancing.

Ged felt slightly annoyed by the fact that Jaheira hadn't consulted him about the bard, after everyone else had given their opinions. He was of a mind to go and ask her about the fact, but seeing the two half-elves engaged in some very private looking matter, Jaheira laying in her husbands arms, he decided to let the matter pass.

Their conversation was indeed private, but it concerned the young wizard.

"Whu-why didn't you ask Ged, my dear? It wuh-wasn't very polite..." Khalid gently chided his wife, who was resting her head on his lap.

"What?" the druidess snapped irritably. "An oversight, no more. Besides, young Gedragon could have volunteered his opinion, the others certainly did so. Don't blame me if he lacks Gorion's fire."

"That was not fair, muh-my d-dear and you know it!" the warrior said, hoping his wife wouldn't consider his reproach a direct challenge this time, when she needed to rest.

Jaheira turned her head and Khalid could see the anger in her eyes. His wife usually had the last word in their arguments, being a much more forceful personality.

"Unfair?" she hissed. "If not for him, Gorion would still be-" she started, before catching herself.

Khalid merely smiled sadly, considering his point made.

"I-I'm sorry. You are right my husband. It wasn't the boy's fault, that our mentor lies in his earthen grave. It's just..." she said, her voice trailing off as she searched for words to convey her intense emotions about the death of their old friend.

"I k-know, my love." Khalid replied, soothingly. "Ged is inexperienced yet, but he will mature quickly, him and Imoen both. Besides, I think they handled themselves wuh-well in combat today. Do you remember how f-foolish and nuh-naive we once were." he smiled at his wife, stroking her hair.

"I remember." Jaheira replied, her frown melting away into a fond smile. "Silvanus help me, it seems a lifetime ago. Almost as if it happened to someone else entirely." her smile melted away, shifting into a more thoughtful look.

"Gedragon and the girl will have to grow up fast, otherwise they will die." she mused. "Poor Gorion, I don't think he envisoned this kind of a life for the boy."

Khalid sighed, glancing at Ged, who was inspecting the staff Silke had left behind as Imoen laughed merrily at something Garrick had told her.

Wearily he called for the others to pack up. Wounded as they were, a night between clean sheets in an Beregost inn felt a much more inviting prospect than camping outside.

-:o Next episode: Where the wild roses grow o:-

Ok, thanks for all the reviews so far. :D Some answers to your questions:

1) I've always assumed Shank & Carbos came to CK as servants of some merchant or nobleman. Intended originally to make Tethtoril or Gorion comment on the fact, but oh well!

2) Ged being a magical prodigy will become more apparent as he progresses, he will not be an archmage right out of Candlekeep but if you consider the main character at the end of the BG saga, 25 to 30th level and what, 20-22 years of age! Don't worry, you will see young Ged show his quality in the future, so far only Gorion (and perhaps Tethtoril) realized his inner talent, see how Jaheira treats him.

3) I like Khalid's stutter! Makes writing his lines different than that blasted shakespearian stuff used by some characters or Imoen and Montaron's cant infused stuff.

4) The spellbooks, yea one of my beefs with the BG series. Some times they kinda tried to do it in the game by giving you a couple of scrolls from a dead mage (like Tarnesh the Friendly Arm assassin). Not all wizards carry their books with them, though. As they are needed only for memorization, some more cunning wizards keep their well hidden.


	12. XI: Where the wild roses grow

Chapter 11 -:o Where the wild roses grow o:-

The town of Beregost, which Ged's small group had entered several hours earlier to rest and recuperate was a small town dominated by the nearby temple of Lathander, the Morning Lord. Imoen had told Ged that the Most Radiant Kelddath Ormlyr of Lathander, head of the temple, also acted as the governor of the town. A rather unusual arrangement, but from what the others had told him of the town's history, it seemed to work rather well.

The sun was beginning to dip towards the horizon.

Ged inspected the contents of the small bag rather critically. He had just sent Imoen and Garrick away, after enduring one question too many about his spell component purchases. The young bard had been particularly irritating, trying to impress Imoen with his wildly inaccurate descriptions of the magical wonders he had encountered in the course of his 'far-ranging' adventures. Jaheira had originally foisted those two on him, 'just in case', but Ged's patience had soon run out, what with Imoen's constant irreverence and wizard jokes and Garrick's oafish and naive remarks.

After sending the pair away he had made his final purchase, components for a spell currently beyond his ability. Hold Person would a potent aid in combat and it needed the iron rods he had just obtained to work. It was the most powerful spell contained in the book Imoen had given him.

Ged sighed, thinking of the days when such power might be his. Flying through the air without wings, changing miscreants into squirrels or summoning powerful spirits and beings to aid him.

Feeling a pang of regret at disobeying Jaheira's strict demand that he head right back to Feldepost's Inn after making his purchases, Ged decided instead to head for the temple. He would need to get the leather strips he had acquired from a farmer blessed by a priest. Otherwise they would be of no use when casting Armor, his main protection against threats from bounty hunters.

The wizard enjoyed the sight of buildings around him, it had been so long since he had been anywhere else than Candlekeep, that even this small town stirred his blood with it's scant offerings. Besides, the air was fragrant and slightly cooler than it had been earlier. Ged decided to enjoy himself a little before joining his combatative little group. It was better to listen to birds singing than Xzar's maddening non-sequitors or endure the wounded Montaron's vicious temper.

In the middle of the short trek through farmland to the temple, he noticed what he took to be wild roses growing some distance away. On a whim he decided to pick some, knowing that Sleep could be cast using rose petals in the place of sand.

"And it will be a nice gesture to Jaheira, giving her one of these..." he mused as he collected some of the fragrant flower petals, placing them carefully in his pouches but saving the largest rose intact for the druidess. Perhaps it would mollify Jaheira's anger at his lateness.

He heard steps behind him, someone wearing heavy boots.

Ged whirled around a saw a rugged looking dwarf, clad in chain mail and wielding a battle axe. The dwarf stopped and cursed under his breath. Ged realized that the grim looking fellow had followed him and tried to sneak up on him while he was preoccupied with the flowers.

He instantly knew the peril he was in and cursed his folly for not listening to Jaheira.

The dwarf snarled an oath and charged him, swinging with his axe.

Ged leaped to the side, dodging the blow but falling painfully and twisting his ankle. He yelled in pain, drawing an amused snort from his assailant.

"No use in struggling, lad. Jes' let ol' Karlat end it. Now, stay still, thass a good lad!" the dwarf chuckled, again lunging at Ged like a viper, moving quickly despite his clumsy appearance and stocky build.

Once again, the cold and calm hand that had guided him twice already took over. As time seemed to slow down, Ged waited for the last moment until rolling from under the axe blow.

With a furious oath, the dwarf managed to bury the blade of his weapon into the earth instead of the young wizard's skull. Somehow, Ged (or whatever it was that was guiding him) had anticipated this. The wizard drew Gorion's old dagger and struck upwards in a quick stabbing motion, taking the advantage of his low position and hitting the dwarf under the hem of his chainmail hauberk.

"Yeaargh!" Karlat screamed in pain and surprise, stumbling backwards and wrenching Ged's weapon away from him.

Not having any spells left commited to his memory, Ged painfully stood up, leaning on his staff. He noted the pain throbbing in his foot, but ignored it as if it were nothing more than a mosquito bite. With some difficulty, he wrenched the dwarf's stuck axe free and held it ready with one hand. Somewhere inside his mind, Ged was surprised that he even knew how to correctly hold the weapon. He had never practiced with other weapons than his staff.

Shooting a furious look at him, Karlat pulled the dagger from his wounded thigh with a grunt and inspected it gingerly. Blood dripped from the blade and the wound, falling to the dry earth.

"Ye tricky lil' git! I'll poke out yer eyes wiv' me fingers and piss in yer skull fer that!" the dwarf snarled and lunged at him again, though moving somewhat slower and stiffer this time. Ged raised his axe and holding it from near the end of the handle, swung it horizontally at the charging dwarf. His stolen weapon connected at the side of the dwarf's head, shattering both the helmet he wore and the skull beneath it.

The dwarf stumbled and fell, dead before he hit the ground.

Ged regarded the corpse silently for a few moments. He felt the cold 'killer instinct' release him from it's grasp, and dropped the bloodied axe from his hands. He felt the pulsing waves of pain in his ankle and tasted the rising bile in his throat. His hands were shaking and suddenly he felt sick all over.

The wizard fell on all fours right next to his dead foe and threw up violently until nothing would come up anymore. He felt miserable and afraid, having killed a person for the first time. The mindless, carrion feeding gibberlings had been completely different. This was a foe who had died cursing his name and watching him into the eyes. Flies were beginning to buzz around Karlat's shattered skull. Ged couldn't bear the sight of the dwarf's empty, almost accusing eyes. He rose up, somewhat painfully and turned the short and stocky corpse over so it lay on it's stomach. He noticed a scroll that the dwarf had rolled up and stuck in his belt.

Ged took it and rolled it open and read it, not very surprised to see the same bounty notice that the wizardly assassin at Friendly Arm had carried.

As if in a daze, the young wizard rose and started to limp back towards the town. He stopped only to pick up the wild rose he had intended for Jaheira, but the act was purely instinctive. His thoughts were in turmoil and the only real idea in his head was to return to Feldepost's. He left Karlat laying there, in the shadow of the wild rose bush, covered by his own cloak and killed by his own axe.

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As Ged arrived to the Inn, he saw that the three merchants they had saved had orchestrated a small celebration to honor the group. Wine and other alcohol seemed to be freely available, and Ged saw that Garrick was already roaring drunk. The young bard was dancing on the table with Imoen to the delight of the other patrons, who were shouting encouragement and singing several different songs, in several different keys.

Khalid and Jaheira were nowhere in sight, and Montaron was also missing. Xzar was attending, however. The mad wizard sat alone in a corner table, sipping wine and looking at the festivities with a sardonic look on his tattooed face.

Feldepost's had been described as the nicest inn in Beregost, and at other times Ged could have certainly appreciated it's fine furnishings and friendly atmosphere. Hoping Imoen wouldn't notice him, he snuck to a quiet looking corner table and slouched down, feeling miserable. A barmaid brought him a mug of ale and said something in a merry tone but Ged didn't hear her or even attempt to listen. In his mind he saw his own hand raising the axe and make the killing stroke, over and over again.

He had killed the dwarf, but not without giving in to... what? He didn't know the answer. There was something inside of him that knew how to kill. What's worse, that 'something' enjoyed the act of killing and forced him to enjoy it as well whether he wished to or not.

Ged shuddered, remembering the glee he had felt in some horrific, unnatural way. It didn't occur to him that the dwarf would have killed him without mercy.

"He-eeello there, young man!"

Ged's head snapped up, and he saw a very curvaceous middle-aged woman, dressed in bold and revealing, if quite expensive clothing. She was tall and her hair was shockingly red against her pale skin. The woman was staring at him with hungry eyes, swaying gently as if trying to steady herself.

She was obviously quite heavily drunk.

"What a lovely flower!" she cooed, plucking the wild rose from Ged's hand. The wizard hadn't even remembered holding the flower, and his astonished gaze made the woman erupt into laughter.

"You are so cute! What is your name, beautiful child?" she inquired, sitting into his table and wildly signalling to the barmaid by waving her arm as if it was on fire.

"Ged. I mean, Gedragon my lady." Ged stammered, as the woman caressed his cheek and stared directly into his eyes, obviously enjoying his discomfort.

"Gedh-rah-gohn..." she purred, as if tasting each syllable. "You have the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen, Gedragon..." she continued, edging closer.

The barmaid arrived and brought a full bottle of wine, which the woman immediatly poured into two goblets.

"My name, mine sweet dah-ling, is Lady Gyllian Mynegau, of the Waterdeep Mynegau's."

Ged tasted the wine out of politeness, not wanting to appear crass. To his surprise, he found it to be quite excellent and furthermore, soothing. It cooled his burning conscience. He drained his goblet and was relieved to find some of the tension leave his body. Smiling like a fox in the henhouse, Lady Gyllian filled his goblet to the brim.

"You are thirsty, you poor dear! I was told by Faltis Bearfist- you remember him darling? The man you and your brave associates rescued from that horrid little wench?" Lady Gyllian paused until Ged nodded, somewhat morosely. He had emptied his second goblet, and his new friend wasted no time in filling the third.

"A business associate of my husband... Late husband, that is." she said with a wink.

"Yes, Faltis told us that you are a wizard. I just... adore wizards- that is, of course, if they are as cute as you are darling. Do you have any spells you could... show me?" Lady Gyllian purred, edging even closer.

Ged could smell the wine on her breath, but after the day's harsh experiences the wine had already gone to his head. The woman's gaze held him as if hypnotised. Lady Gyllian was about twice his age, but she was a fine looking woman and her lewd and cunning manner soon won over the young wizard's inhibitions. For some reason, she seemed to get even more excited when Ged told her that the flower was a wild rose.

Soon another bottle was ordered.

Ged was finishing his sixth goblet when he felt a wave of nausea wash over him. Excusing himself he ran out of the smoke-filled common room and breathed greedily at the fresh night air. He had to lean on the wall to keep from falling, and cursed himself aloud. Ged had never drunk much, certainly not to excess in any case, and this was his first real experience in being intoxicated. He heard footsteps behind him and turned smiling, thinking that Lady Gyllian had followed him out.

She had not. He had time to see the man and his rapidly approaching fist before the latter collided with his face and knocked him senseless.

Ged woke shortly after, his head submerged under water. He panicked and started thrashing when someone's strong arms lifted his head up from his hair and tossed him to ground. Blearily stumbling to his feet, Ged saw that his head had been dunked into a water barrel by the larger one of two big and quite angry looking men.

"W-what ish- is the meaning of this!" he demanded, backing away from the pair.

"Stinking 'venturer! You and your kind of scum is what's the matter!" the larger, bearded man snarled, taking a threatening step towards the young wizard.

"Whu-? I've done nothing to you! Leave me alone!" Ged shouted, hoping someone would hear.

"Done nothing!"

Ged's reply seemed only serve to enrage the bearded man.

"DONE NOTHING! You call my son nothing, you little bastard! It was your kind of thoughtless fools who twisted his mind and made him go and get himself killed! Your kind of people are nothing more than filth, flashing your evil magic and stolen gold around so ordinary, good Chauntea-fearing children get confused and throw away their lives!"

"I didn't kill your son, I don't even know his or your name!" Ged stammered, trying to clear his head.

"My name is none your business!" the man snarled, taking a quick step forward and burying his fist in Ged's stomach.

The young wizard fell down, gasping in pain.

Then he felt it, the answering cold tendril somewhere in his soul beckoned, trying to assert itself. It scared Ged to his core.

He had to try and fight it.

Swallowing hard, he tried to concentrate on what the man had said. Slowly and carefully he rose up, leaning on the wall for support. He tried desperately to steady his rapid breathing and think.

His son. The man had lost his son.

"I know how you feel." he said aloud.

The man's eyes flew wide open and he raised his fist again, but stayed the punch as Ged looked into his eyes with sudden calmness that unsettled the angry man.

"I lost my father, two days ago. He was killed and I couldn't protect him, I was too weak." Ged said simply, noticing his nose was bleeding. He wiped the blood away with the back of his hand.

The bearded brute let his hand drop, and his friend laid a hand to the man's shoulder in a gesture of support or perhaps just sympathy.

"I didn't set out to become an adventurer, I was forced to it. My father died, trying to save my life."

"All well and good, but it don't change nothing!" the bearded man shot back, but his tone wasn't so furious anymore.

"I didn't know your son, sir, but I can imagine he was impressed by all the stories he was told. I was too, once. I too, wanted to grow up a hero who made his own mark on the world."

The bearded man looked sullen.

"I don't see what that has to do with Kennair! He had given up those dreams, I know it! He wanted to become a farmer-"

Ged interrupted the man, merely by continuing to look in his eyes.

"My father died protecting me, he chose that. You son, Kennair, died adventuring because he chose to. Or did someone force him away in chains? The Realms call and you go. You should be glad your son was able to choose his own destiny."

"You know nothing!" the man screamed, tears flowing down his face. "He wanted to settle down, I know it! He-"

His friend had been silently listening until then. "Marl, fun is fun an' all." he cut it.

"I don't mind rough an' tumble wiv some of the more caddish sort, but yer blamin' this boy for nothing. Kennair was never going to settle down, an' ye know it! Do ye remember the new plow he bought for ye, an' how happy ye were?"

Marl merely nodded, and his friend sighed and lowered his head.

"He got the gold fer it, killing kobolds and goblins near Ulgoth's Beard. The boy died doing what he wanted, like the lad here said. It was jes' Kennair had Black Bess laughing at 'im instead of bein' favored by th' Lady."

Marl was silent now, his harsh breathing interrupted only by an occasional sob.

"Come inside, sirs, and I'll drink a toast to your sons memory." Ged offered.

Marl stood silent for a brief moment, before a slight, shameful grin softened his grim visage.

"Thank you, lad. I-I'm sorry about hitting you."

Ged merely smiled, feeling elated. The cold 'killer instinct' had sunk below the surface of his subconscious, at least for the present.

He led the men inside and drank the toast, praising the memory of Kennair Nethalin, aged nineteen, who had attempted to loot the famed ruins of the Ulcaster School of Wizardry and perished in the attempt.

It wasn't long after that until Lady Gyllian found him again. The woman was alarmed at seeing his wounded nose and insisted on taking the young wizard to her lodgings. Ged tried to find the strength to resist, but the trauma of the day and the additional goblets Lady Gyllian served him quickly crumbled his resistance.

As they were walking towards the manor where the lady was living during her visit to the town, Ged saw the wild rose he had picked for Jaheira in Gyllian's hair. When the woman noticed his stare she gave a small frivolous giggle before explaining.

"I was known as the Wild Rose during my... earlier years. I was a wild and temperamental debutante then, nothing like the refined lady you are currently escorting, darling."

She stopped walking and turned to face the young, quite drunk wizard.

"I. Adore. Wild roses."

Gyllian circled her arms around Ged's neck and pressed her body against his.

"Thank you for such a lovely gift. I shall pay you back in full..."

Then she drew him close and kissed him deeply and passionately, the first time anyone had ever kissed Ged like that. And even though her breath smelled of wine and her manner was quite crass, Ged couldn't help but be drawn to her. He needed something to distract him, something to counter the abyss he had come face to face with today.

He held her tighter and kissed her throat, which caused her to giggle again and take a quick, playful nip at his ear.

"There you are!"

Jaheira's voice cut through his happy haze of wine and passion like a knife.

Ged turned to see the furious druidess limp to face him, Khalid timidly following with Imoen, who was eyeing the voluptous 'Wild Rose', her eyes wide as saucers.

"We have been looking all over Beregost for you! I was certain somehing had happened, that some assassin had got the jump on you and made off with you head!" she screamed, her voice reverbrating through the empty street.

"Juh-Jaheira...?" Khalid tried to interject, but lost his nerve as his wife spun around in rage.

"And where were you two? Getting drunk with that young imbecile of a bard, who I heard passed out on the floor! I had to rise up from my sick bed to look for this- this young hedonist! Really Gedragon..." she turned to regard him with burning eyes, "Try using some of that sense your father was so famous of possessing. Say good bye to your... friend. We have to wake up early tomorrow, and I don't want to start looking for you all around this town!"

Her mention of Gorion blew away the remnants of Ged's elated mood, and reminded him of his current predicament.

As furious as Jaheira was, Imoen could hardly repress her amusement. Lady Gyllian bid the young wizard good night and kissed him in such a way that both Ged AND Khalid blushed. The group courteously escorted her to the manor, but when the door closed behind the dissapointed noblewoman, Imoen burst out laughing and wouldn't stop until they reached the inn.

-:o Next episode: On the road o:-


	13. XII: On the road

Chapter 12 -:o On the road o:-

Ged opened his eyes blearily, his head aching and the inside of his mouth tasting as if someone had used it as an outhouse. He tried to recall what had happened yesterday as he rose up, the sheets tangled up in a sweaty pile at his feet.

"Good morning to you, Master Gedragon."

Ged turned in alarm, and saw Jaheira sitting in a chair, watching him dispassionately.

Drawing the soggy sheets to cover his nudity, the wizard blushed angrily.

"What are you doing in my room!"

The druidess raised one of her eyebrows in a sarcastic gesture and yawned as if bored.

"Someone had to come and see if you were still alive. It's nearly noon, and we were planning on moving on."

Ged glanced at the door of his room and back at the druidess, somewhat accusingly.

"No, I did not break in. Your door was open. Be more careful in the future, child." Jaheira said, her expression changing into a frown.

"I locked it, I am sure of it!" Ged snapped back at her. He did remember doing that.

"It doesn't matter now." Jaheira replied.

"I wanted to ask you something. They found a body, near the temple. A dwarven miscreant and hired killer by the name of Karlat. Do you..." she let her words trail off, seeing Ged's eyes widen and the young wizard quickly turn away, his jaw clenched and hands curled into fists.

"Ah. I see." the half-elf's voice was even but her eyes glittered in fury.

"You should have told us, and not gone off getting drunk and picking up some local tramp-"

"Jaheira, please." there was something hurt and frightened in Ged's voice that made the druidess take notice.

"I- I killed him. He gave me no choice, I swear!"

"As I said, he was a known ruffian. Good for you for ending his worthless life, but you should have told us!" Jaheira said angrily.

"You had handled yourself well, from what Khalid told me." she continued, in a more even tone.

Ged paled visibly at her words, fully remembering the incident and what had almost happened with the local ruffians after that. Jaheira observed his reaction, but made no comment.

"I wanted to ask you... In battle, do you get these kind of..." Ged paused, searching for words to express his meaning.

"What do you mean? I do get frightened, everyone but maniacs and their ilk do. It's nothing to-"

"No!" Ged again interrupted her. "I do get scared, but what I mean is... I call it the 'killer instinct'."

"The 'killer instinct'?" Jaheira repeated, mystified.

"Yes, I just know how to... kill. It happens and I know how to... do it, without really 'knowing' it." Ged's voice was very small, as if that of a child's but Jaheira suddenly shivered as she thought of Khalid's description of Karlat and his end. The dwarf had supposedly been an experienced killer, one that would have been a handful for either Khalid or herself, even.

"It comes when I feel threatened and… takes over."

"Go on!" Jaheira demanded, anxious to hear more.

"It is as if time slows down and then I just know how to use all the powers at my disposal to... end the threat." the wizard continued on, his gaze averted.

"As if... As if something was guiding me. But that is not the worst part." he turned to face the druidess, his eyes full of dread.

"I... It makes me- FORCES me to enjoy it! I can't help it!" he cried out, wringing his hands.

Jaheira sat silently for a moment, looking at her despairing charge.

"Can you fight it?" she finally asked, her voice grave.

"Yes! I mean, some local hoodlums attacked me yesterday, and the 'instinct' answered but I fought it and repressed it." he responded, trying to sound certain.

"Repressed it?"

"Yes! I- uh, talked my way out of the situation."

Jaheira nodded, but behind her calm demeanor her mind was in turmoil. Was the boy cursed? But with what and when had it happened?

"We had best go see the priests before we leave." she said aloud.

Ged nodded and reached for his waterskin.

After emptying it greedily he felt a bit better, though his head still felt slightly heavier than normal.

"We have been making inquiries about the town. The iron plague and the bandit threat has people on the edge, and there is some new villain, a maddened criminal loose about the countryside, killing people. There has been talk of a reward for his head."

"You mentioned before, about the iron plague, that it couldn't be natural." Ged said. "I think you are right, but have you any ideas what is behind it? Some sort of magic or a- a curse?" he continued, stammering a little over the word curse.

"Hmph!" Jaheira snorted. "The people here all believe it's a ploy of the Amnish. The fools!" she sighed, shaking her head.

"No, my sources told me that the town of Nashkel is having all sorts of troubles in their mines. Something is killing their miners and fouling up the metal. It's not the Amnish. And the bandits are unusually rapacious and quite numerous. I wonder if some organization is behind both the bandits and the iron plague..."

"But what... Who would do that? The Zhents?" Ged wondered.

Jaheira grinned at the mention of the Black Network, and not in a friendly way.

"I first believed that, too. But no, I don't think it's the Zhents. There's something else at work here."

"Do you think we can solve this... crisis?" Ged wondered aloud, thinking about Jaheira's very familiar mention of the Zhentarim as if she knew them very well indeed.

"We will investigate the matter at Nashkel, at least. After that, we shall see. Just do as I tell you and you'll do fine. Make sure the girl and that witless bard understand this too, and keep your eye on those two cretins who forced their company on you- on US.No sense in trusting them, and I think our time with those two is nearing it's end."

Jaheira rose up and headed for the door.

"Hurry up and get dressed, we should have already started towards Nashkel!

She walked out and slammed the door behind her.

Ged jumped out of his bed and regretted it instantly. His headache returned instantly and his stomach heaved. Swallowing against the rising bile, he pulled on his pants and put on his shirt, vest and cloak.

Then he noticed his spellbook was missing!

He had left it on the table before leaving to buy his spell components yesterday. Ged remembered Jaheira saying his door had been open.

Cursing aloud, he grabbed his backpack and stormed out, having an idea who might be behind the theft.

He rushed to one of the nearby doors and pounded on it with his fist.

"Come in!"

Ged opened the door and instantly saw his guess had been correct: his spellbook lay in the floor, as if carelessly tossed aside.

Xzar was sitting on the floor, intently studying something.

"You took my book!" Ged yelled angrily.

"Yes yes yes. So? We had a deal, my spell for yours. The deal is now concluded." came the answer. Xzar didn't bother to turn.

Ged walked to the mad wizard and turned him around, grabbing his shoulder.

"What possessed you to- WHAT IS THAT!"

Xzar rose up, giggling like a little girl. He had been studying a severed human hand.

"It's a project of mine, a piece of raw material I procured on the course of our travels."

"It's a hand! Is it- Silke's?" Ged stammered, fighting to keep his already queasy stomach from rebelling outright.

"Yes, thou unwashed fool! It's her's, what of it?" Xzar sneered, his tone changing to one of sneering superiority.

Ged picked up his book and backed towards the door.

"What do you mean 'project'? What kind of a-... You're a necromancer, by Mystra!" the younger wizard said, his face mirroring the disgust in his voice.

"Of course I am! Leave me now, fool!" Xzar replied, roughly pushing him out and slamming the door behind him shut.

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When he went outside to meet the rest of his companions, Ged saw they had been busy. The equipment they had captured from the ogre and Silke had been identified by the priests of Lathander (for a hefty fee). Jaheira now carried Silke's white staff, a magical weapon of minor power. One of the belts was also useful, emanating a protective barrier that caused arrows and other thrown or fired missiles to bounce away. Jaheira handed it to Ged, warning him not to trust it too much.

"Keep it on whenever you are not sleeping. It might not be a suit of armor, but it will give you something against these filthy bounty killers."

She also gave him a healing potion.

One of the other belts had been cursed, just as Jaheira had warned Ged. It would change the sex of anyone wearing it, and the priests had offered to take it and destroy it. Jaheira had agreed, exchanging the item for a few poison antidote potions.

Khalid had had his armor fixed and bought a larger shield for himself, along with a open faced helmet adorned with a green plume.

Imoen had teased Ged at first about Lady Gyllian, but once he told her about Karlat, the girl quit her jesting and expressed her sympathy. She didn't look surprised however, when Ged mentioned Xzar's project.

"Bah! I knew that creep was up to no good! I say we better watch him an' that other one close, lest he start thinkin' up new projects with some of OUR body parts..."

Ged nodded, noting somewhat distractedly Xzar and Montaron finally joining them. Xzar headed instantly for Garrick and reverted to his childlike manner, asking about some story with 'dragons that had feet like rabbits'.

"Imoen..." Ged began, trying to appear nonchalant.

"Yea...?"

"When in battle, do you get these... feelings?" he continued, observing her reaction intently.

"Sure I get scared, don't ya worry about it! Did that silly druid give ya any lip? Jes' ignore her highness, that's what I'm planning ta do!" she replied, giving him a quick, distracted smile before turning her attention back to watching Garrick's discomfort.

"No, I mean... Oh never mind."

Ged felt relieved in some way, not having to share the grisly details with the happy-go-lucky girl. Perhaps he could find help at the temple, or just push back this 'killer instinct' every time it manifested itself.

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They were on the road again.

The priests at the temple had been mystified at Ged's explanations and their magic had revealed nothing. Jaheira had been anxious to move on and that had been it.

The sky was already darkening, and heavy clouds blotted out the stars. It had been a long, tedious day of walking what with Imoen pestering him about his hang-over or that his heart had been left in Beregost with Lady Gyllian.

From somewhere came a memory of Gorion, telling his eager young audience tales of his adventures.

Gorion had often remarked that being an adventurer sometimes meant life on the road, survival in the wilderness. Occasionally spending weeks without seeing any other sentient beings, in the company of beasts and monsters.

It had sounded wild and wonderful then, in Winthrop's Inn surrounded by friendly faces, eating warm food and drinking fine ale or cider.

Ged lowered his head against the chill wind.

The reality was somewhat more complex. He missed Beregost already. Out here with all the bandits and ogres, eating dried rations and sleeping uncomfortably, it wasn't so nice.

He observed his companions.

Imoen was walking by his side with Garrick next to her, both of their faces etched with weariness, for the pace Jaheira had set was quite strident. At least Imoen's weariness meant she kept her quips to herself for the moment.

Xzar and Montaron were squabbling, of course. They walked ahead of the youthful trio, one of the moody pair occasionally shoving or kicking the other.

Jaheira led the way and Khalid walked last, both using their infravision to best advantage, trying to scope out any ambushers.

The first drops of rain hit Ged in the face, the cold and hard wind making them feel like small needles.

According to the druidess, the group would arrive at Nashkel next noon.

For the young wizard, it wouldn't be a moment too soon.

-:o Next episode: Four pledges and a promise o:-


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